THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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THE  CARPETBAGGER 


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THE 

CARPETBAGGER 

A  NOVEL 

BY 

Opie  Read  and  Frank  Pixley 

OTHER  STORIES  BY  OPIE  READ 

"Old  Ebenezer."  "My  Young  Master,"  "On  the  Suwanee  River," 

"A  Kentucky  Colonel,"  "A  Tennessee  Judge," 

"The  Jucklins,"  etc.,  etc. 

ILLUSTRATED 


CHICAGO 

LAIRD  &  LEE,  PUBLISHERS 


Kntered  according  to  Act  of  Congress   in  the  year  eighteen 
huudreti  and  ninety-nine,  by 

WILLIAM   H.  LEE, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 

(ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED.) 


CONTENTS 

PACE. 

Preface, 

.      .      .      .      .      . 

7 

Chap  I. 

The  American  Czar, 

9 

11. 

The  Girl  from  the  North, 

17 

III. 

A  Railroad  mostly  Swamps, 

24 

IV. 

The  Alligator  Boy, 

43 

V. 

Old  Steve's  Missionary, 

58 

VI. 

The  Old  Man's  Sweat  Box, 

70 

VII. 

Who  Does  the  Counting? 

78 

VIII. 

The  Governor  wipes  out  a  Blot. 

89 

IX. 

The   Governor's   Sunday, 

94 

X. 

The  High-headed  Woman, 

.97 

XI. 

A  Sigh  and  a  Drink, 

103 

XII. 

He  Meets  a  Bullet, 

no 

\u\. 

Who  raised  the  Devil? 

119 

XIV. 

The  Old  Man's  side  of  it. 

131 

XV. 

A  Horticultural  Idea, 

145 

XVI. 

Not  Quite  so  Muddy, 

153 

XVII. 

Nothing  but  Action  now,     . 

162 

XVIII. 

The  Whipporwill's  Call,      . 

167 

XIX. 

Moving  the  Menagerie, 

176 

XX. 

A  Bad  Way  to  Sprinkle  the  Law«, 

183 

Chap.  XXI.  The  Boy  at  the  Spring,     .         .        .  191 

XXII.  Face  to  Face  with  Himself.      .  200 

XXIII.  Drawing  Hinn  Out,          ...  207 

XXIV.  The  Governor  Meets  the  "Bad  Man."  220 

XXV.  Food  for  Scandal 229 

XXVI.  The  Major  Files  an  Objection,         .  237 

XXVII.  A  Faded  Rose.        .         .  .246 

XXVIII.  In  a  Dead  Man's  Hand,            .         .  254 

XXIX.  The  Check  that  Conscience  Draws,  260 

XXX.  A  Good  Time-Piece,       ...  269 

XXXI.  Mr.  Willets  Makes  a  Point,      .         .  288 

XXXII.  What  Jim  Found,                    .         .  291 

XXXIII.  The  Waters  Cleared.       ...  302 


PREFACE 

Many  plays  have  been  made  from  novels ;  this  is  a 
book  made  from  a  play.  "The  Carpetbagger"  origin- 
ally was  written  as  a  four-act  comedy.  It  was  performed 
for  thirty  weeks  during  the  theatrical  season  of  1898-9, 
under  the  intelligent  management  of  Mr.  Tim  Murphy, 
and  met  with  a  most  flattering  reception.  There 
have  been  so  many  requests  for  the  preservation  of  this 
story  in  permanent  form,  that  we  have  been  led  to 
publish  it  as  a  novel,  and  the  result  is  before  you. 

Don't  search  your  histories  for  the  Carpetbagger 
herein  introduced.  He  isn't  there.  Our  Carpetbagger 
is  not  one  who  really  was,  but  one  who  might  have  been. 
We  have  not  written  history ;  but  we  have  told  much 
truth,  a  virtue  which  not  all  history  possesses.  The 
character  of  Melville  Crance  is  consistent  with  the 
times  in  which  he  lived ;  consistent  with  the  Yankee 
nature  —  with  that  of  any  man  who,  though  gone  astray, 
knows  the  road  that  leads  back  to  honesty. 

•  THE  AUTHORS. 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  AMERICAN   CZAR 

At  the  close  of  the  Civil  War  it  had  not  been 
proved  to  the  world  that  this  government  was  more 
than  an  experiment.  A  great  rebellion  had  been 
crushed  but  victory  lay  red  upon  a  devastated  land. 
Throughout  the  South  force  was  law.  It  seemed 
that  the  very  principle  of  democracy  had  been 
shrouded  in  a  tent-cloth.  Society  sighed  out  its 
breath  in  despair.  For  the  aged  there  was  no  hope 
and  youth  had  been  taught  iconoclasm.  Then  was 
begun  the  slow  work  of  reconstruction.  Each  day 
was  a  whimsical  joke.  Politics  was  a  comic  opera 
and  statemanship  a  farce.  From  the  North  there 
came  a  horde  of  political  gamblers  whom  the 
Southerners  contemptuously  called  "Carpetbag- 
gers." Many  of  them  were  men  of  marked  ability; 
nearly  all  were  "characters";  but  few  indeed  had 
held  positions  of  trust  at  home.    They  enacted  the 

9 


10  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

mockery  of  re-establishing  civil  law.  While  some 
scrambled  for  places  on  the  bench,  the  boldest 
managed  to  install  themselves  in  the  chairs  once 
held  by  sedate  old  governors.  These  olBces  v^ere 
not  meted  out  by  fitness.  It  is  not  know^n  that 
they  were  not  won  with  dice. 

Prominent  among  these  adventurers  was  Melville 
Crance,  Governor  of  Mississippi.  He  was  a  tall, 
rather  gaunt  man  of  fifty,  with  a  serious  face  and 
the  Yankee  light  of  humor  in  his  eye.  In  Chicago 
he  had  been  an  auctioneer  and  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war  had  joined  a  cavalry  regiment.  It  was 
said  that  he  served  with  distinction.  No  one  could 
doubt  his  nerve.  No  one  had  cause  to  suspect 
that  he  ever  entertained  an  honest  thought.  He 
was  not  well  educated  but  was  far  from  ignorant. 
On  one  occasion  he  was  heard  to  remark:  "Oh, 
whenever  I  find  that  a  man  has  more  education 
than  I  have,  I  skip  his  learning  and  hit  his  common- 
sense."  As  the  alien  governor  of  a  proud,  old 
state,  humbled  into  the  dust,  he  was,  of  course,  most 
enthusiastically  hated.     Socially  he  was  ostracised. 

Ncq 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  11 

Women  turned  up  their  noses  at  him  in  the  street. 
His  daily  mail  consisted  largely  of  threatening 
letters.  One  morning  while  going  to  his  office  he 
overheard  a  man  say:  "Bet  you  ten  dollars  that 
fellow  won't  live  a  month."  And  then  came  the 
reply:  "You  want  a  sure  thing  when  you  bet." 
Such  was  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  lived;  and 
yet,  within  his  jurisdiction,  he  was  supreme,  an 
absolute  monarch  in  a  republic,  an  American  czar. 
The  president  of  the  nation  never  would  have  dared 
to  usurp  such  authority.  His  word  was  arrest, 
fine,  imprisonment.  He  and  his  friends  owned  the 
legislature.  A  rebellious  member  who  ventured  to 
oppose  a  bill  was  promptly  brought  before  a  com- 
mittee, "investigated"  and  expelled  from  the  House 
on  the  pretext  of  ballot-box  trickery  at  the  time 
of  his  election.  It  was  a  huge  joke  but  the  recal- 
citrant had  to  go. 

A  ring  of  lobbyists  was  the  nearest  approach  to 
a  gubernatorial  board  of  advisers.  The  Governor, 
with  his  shrewdness,  could  not  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
greed  and  lawlessness  of  those  fellows;  but  why 


12  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

should  he  care?  He  was  there  not  to  detect  thiev- 
ery but  to  make  it  profitable  to  himself.  His  sense 
of  humor  was  his  conscience;  and  humor,  which  is 
always  half  a  rascal,  ever  stands  ready  to  pardon  a 
frailty. 

Chief  among  these  lobbyists  was  a  man  named 
Willetts.  Before  the  war  he  had  been  a  gambler 
on  the  Mississippi  river.  It  was  said  that  he  once 
had  bet  two  negro  boys  on  a  "four  flush".  An 
opponent  "raised"  him  with  two  men  and  he  "lay 
down."  This  was  a  river  lie,  of  course,  but  it  illus- 
trated his  character.  When  the  war  "broke  out," 
he  broke  out,  too — went  to  Canada,  remained  till 
peace  was  nominally  established  and  then  hurried 
South  with  the  Carpetbaggers.  His  sole  recom- 
mendation was  his  coolness,  and  it  was  a  good 
one,  for  at  that  time  Mississippi  was  not  an  appro- 
priate place  for  a  hot-headed  man. 

"Yes,  I'm  cool  enough,"  he  remarked  one  day 
to  the  Governor,  "but  I'm  not  as  cool  as  you  are. 
I  understand  that  you've  sent  for  your  daughter." 

"Yes,  she's  tired  of  school — thought  I'd  give  her 
a  vacation." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  13 

"Vacation?  In  such  a  place  as  this!"  Willetts 
exclaimed. 

The  Governor  looked  at  him  with  a  dry  smile. 
'"Why  not?  I  live  in  the  finest  mansion  in  the 
city  of  Jackson,  And  it's  a  most  exclusive  place. 
The  neighbors  never  bother  me;  no  back-door 
callers.  No  one  ever  borrows  a  tea-cup  of  vinegar 
from  me.  I'm  left  alone  to  the  repose  of  my  li- 
brary, where  I  can  muse  over  the  bills  introduced 
into  the  legislature.  She'll  like  it  and  why  should- 
n't I  have  at  least  one  congenial  visitor?" 

"But  some  one  shot  at  you  one  night,  not  long 
ago. 

"A  bullet  did  come  through  the  window  and  bore 
into  'The  Life  and  Character  of  S.  S.  Prentiss,' 
but  that's  all.  The  window  was  up  at  the  time 
and  the  glass  wasn't  broken.  Yes,  Nellie  wanted 
to  come  down  here,  and  I  told,  her  to  come  on. 
Things  are  gradually  getting  better.  Some  of  the 
preachers  have  advocated  forgiveness,  and  the 
lawyers  are  hammering  away  in  the  couFts.  Oh, 
it  will  all  come  around  in  time." 


14  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"Yes,"  said  Willetts,  "and  I  think  we  ought  to 
make  the  most  of  it — in  time.  As  soon  as  they 
hear  the  facts  at  Washington — why,  we'll  be  bun- 
dled out  of  here,  that's  all.  For  a  year  or  more 
they  may  believe  that  it's  simply  the  usual  howl 
of  the  spiteful,  but  sooner  or  later  the  truth " 

"What's  that?"  The  Governor  looked  up  with  a 
twinkle.  "The  truth?  I'm  a  plain-spoken  man, 
and  I  don't  believe  in  the  introduction  of  such 
strange  figures  of  speech.  I'm  busy.  As  you  go 
out  tell  Lummers  to  come  here." 

This  talk  had  taken  place  in  the  Governor's 
private  office,  off  from  the  executive  chamber.  It 
was  mainly  noted  for  a  large  demijohn  which  stood 
on  a  shelf.  The  old  man  took  a  certain  number  of 
drinks  a  day.  What  that  number  was  no  one  ever 
discovered;  but  no  one  could  say  that  he  was  ever 
under  the  influence  of  whiskey.  He  smacked  his 
mouth  over  his  liquor,  and  that  sort  of  drinker  is 
not  often  found  among  the  drunkards. 

Lummers  came  into  the  room.  The  Governor 
had  given  him  the  post  of  private  secretary,  not 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  15 

because  he  was  bright,  but  because  he  was  not. 
He  was  faithful  enough  to  be  useful,  dull  enough 
not  to  investigate  motive,  and  that  was  a  virtue 
under  the  administration  of  Melville  Crance. 

"Lummers,  do  you  remember  a  piece  of  paper 
with  48  and  a  star  marked  on  it?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Do  you  know  where  it  is?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  can  bring  it  to  you.' 

"Well,  that's  exactly  what  I  don't  want.  I  want 
it  to  disappear.    Understand?" 

"I  think  I  do,  sir." 

"But  I  don't  want  you  to  think.  You  under- 
stand?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"A  committee  from  the  house  may  call  for  that 
paper.  The  rascals  are  getting  a  trifle  too  inde- 
pendent.   It  was  stolen,  Lummers." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  I  think  that  we  can  prove,  if  necessary, 
that  it  was  stolen  by  a  man  named  Simpson.  He's 
the  chairman  of  an  investigating  committee." 


16  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"We  can  prove  it,  sir." 

"If  necessary.    It  may  not  be." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"That's  all.     Go  on." 

Lummers  went  back  to  his  desk  in  the  executive 
chamber.  Yes,  he  was  dull;  but  under  the  tutelage 
of  Mr.  Willetts  he  was  beginning  to  brighten — not 
sufficiently  to  betray  himself  with  shining,  but 
enough,  perhaps,  to  serve  the  purpose  of  the 
gambler. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  GIRL  FROM  THE  NORTH 

Within  an  hour  after  her  arrival  at  the  guberna- 
torial mansion,  Nellie  Crance  was  completely  mis- 
tress of  the  place.  She  romped  along  the  wide  halls, 
ran  up  and  down  the  stairs  three  steps  at  a  time, 
burst  unannounced  into  the  library  and  put  to  flight 
a  legislative  committee  in  conference  with  the  gov- 
ernor. She  waited  for  no  introduction.  Why 
should  she?  Was  she  not  the  daughter  of  the 
greatest  man  in  Mississippi,  and,  in  her  estimation, 
the  greatest  in  the  world? 

For  the  first  time  big  Jim,  the  governor's  body 
servant,  found  his  exclusive  prerogatives  ques- 
tioned. "She's  a  tulip,"  he  soliloquized,  as  he 
watched  her  flitting  about  the  house.  "Ef  she  aint 
I  don'  know  er  flower  w'en  I  sees  it." 

"Who  lives  over  there?"  she  inquired,  pointing 
toward  a  big  stone  house  half  hidden  among  the 
trees  beyond  the  garden. 

17 


18  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"Mis'  Fairburn,"  replied  the  negro,  leaning 
against  one  of  the  tall  Corinthian  pillars  of  the 
broad  veranda. 

"Miss  Fairburn,"  echoed  Nellie,  regarding  the 
neighboring  residence  with  evident  curiosity. 

"Yassum,"  continued  Jim,  "de  Widder  Fair- 
burn." 

"Oh!    And  so  she's  a  widow.     Is  she  nice?" 

"Oh,  yassum,  she's  powerful  nice." 

"Goody!    I'm  going  to  run  over  and  see  her." 

The  old  negro  shook  his  head.  "I  wouldn't, 
Miss,"  he  said,  "ef  I  wuz  in  yo'  fix." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  me?"  she  cried, 
glancing  at  her  pretty  frock.  "Don't  I  look  all 
right?" 

"Oh,  yassum;  but  dat  aint  it.  Yo'  know  dar 
aint  much  visitin'  gwine  on  twixt  de  Gub'nor  an' 
dese  yere  folks.  Day's  monstrous  high-headed. 
Dat  lady  ober  dar  wouldn't  walk  on  de  groun'  at 
all  if  dar  wuz  anywhar  else  t'  walk.  She  wouldn't, 
foh  a  fac'.  Sometimes  she  jest  don'  tech  de  groun* 
'cept  in  de  high  places." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  19 

"The  stuck-up  thing!" 

"Yassum." 

"Well,  she  needn't  put  on  any  airs,  I  guess.  Pa 
is  the  biggest  man  in  this  state  and  he  used  to  be 
the  best  auctioneer  in  Chicago,  too." 

"Is  dat  so?  I  nebber  heered  him  say:  but  he's 
no  man  to  boast  and  brag  'bout  hisself,  anyway." 

As  they  re-entered  the  house  it  was  clear  that 
she  had  given  her  father  a  new  claim  to  greatness 
in  the  eyes  of  the  negro. 

"Well,  how  do  you  like  it?"  asked  the  Governor, 
with  a  comprehensive  sweep  of  the  arm. 

"It's  just  perfectly  elegant,"  was  Nellie's  ecstatic 
reply,  an  expression  which  among  boarding-school 
girls  the  world  over  is  accepted  as  the  highest  pos- 
sible form  of  praise. 

"Make  yourself  at  home,"  he  added.  "Jim  and 
I've  got  to  go  down  to  the  state  house  now  for 
a  while.  If  you  get  lonesome  you'll  find  plenty  of 
books  in  the  library." 

"But  I  don't  care  for  books,"  she  exclaimed,  pet- 
ulantly. "I  had  enough  of  that  at  school.  I'm 
going  with  you." 


20  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"No;  not  to-day,"  said  the  Governor,  laying  his 
hand  upon  her  bronze  head.  "I've  got  some  very 
important  business  to  attend  to  and  must  be  alone." 

"It  can't  be  so  very  important,"  she  protested, 
"if  you  can  do  it  alone.  I've  heard  so  much  about 
state  houses  all  my  life  and  I've  never  seen  one. 
Are  they  bigger  than  boarding-schools?  Why  not 
let  me  go?" 

"Not  to-day,"  he  repeated,  kindly.  "You  shall 
go  down  with  me  in  a  day  or  two,  when  I  get  my 
afifairs  in  a  little  better  shape,  and  then  I'll  shov; 
you  everything  and  you  may  take  possession." 

She  followed  him  down  the  hall,  clinging  to  his 
arm. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  big  black  man?"  she 
asked,  confidentially,  pointing  to  Jim.  "Aren't 
you  afraid  of  him?" 

"Afraid?  Nonsense!"  he  said.  "Jim  is  my 
friend.  The  best  one  I  have,"  he  added,  with  a 
serious  note  in  his  voice.  "I'm  not  afraid  of  any 
man  whose  blackness  is  only  skin  deep.  It's  the 
white  man  v/ho  is  black  inside  that  makes  me  lie 
awake  nights." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  21 

Standing  at  the  garden  gate  she  waved  farewell 
with  a  dainty  handkerchief  until  the  governor  and 
his  companion  disappeared  down  the  street  and 
then  returned  to  the  house.  For  an  hour  or  two 
she  was  kept  busy  investigating  new  mysteries 
about  the  big  mansion;  but  at  last  she  grew  tired 
of  exploration  and  settled  down  for  rest  upon  the 
veranda.  The  great  stone  house  on  the  other  side 
of  the  garden  wall  furnished  an  abundant  theme 
for  speculation  and  she  fell  to  wondering  what  its 
owner  looked  like.  Was  she  old?  Did  she  dress  in 
black?  Was  she  cross  and  crabbed  or  proud  and 
haughty?  Curiosity  rising  dominant  she  asked  her- 
self if  it  might  not  be  possible  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  unknown  neighbor.  At  any  rate  there  could 
be  no  harm  in  seeing  the  house  at  closer  quarters, 
so  she  strolled  down  through  the  garden  in  that 
direction  until  she  found  further  progress  stopped 
by  a  high  stone  wall  which  completely  shut  out  all 
view  of  the  adjoining  grounds.  Walking  along  this 
barrier  and  seeking  in  vain  for  a  gate  or  a  rift  in 
the  masonry  she  suddenly  was  startled  by  a  slight 


22  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

commotion  among  the  branches  of  a  cherry  tree 
which  grew  close  to  the  wall,  upon  the  other  side, 
and,  glancing  up,  saw  a  boy  in  the  tree  top. 
And  cherries — red  cherries — among  the  green 
leaves! 

"Hello!"  she  eric    excitedly.     "Are  they  ripe?" 

The  commotion  among  the  branches  ceased  and 
a  boyish  face  looked  down  at  her  in  surprise. 

"Some  of  'em  are,"  he  said.  "I  was  trying  to 
pick  a  few." 

"Why,  up  in  Chicago  the  cherry  trees  are  in  blos- 
som yet." 

"There'll  be  plenty  of  'em  next  week,"  said  the 
youngster,  clambering  down  and  swinging  easily  to 
the  top  of  the  wall.  "They're  pretty  green  now. 
Do  you  live  in  Chicago?" 

"Ah,  ha,"  replied  Nellie,  nodding  her  head 
affirmatively.  "When  I'm  at  home.  I'm  down 
here  now  visiting  Pa.  You  live  over  there,  I 
s'pose,"  she  added,  indicating  the  big  stone  house 
v/hose  roof  was  discernible  among  the  trees.  "Is 
your  mother  the  high-headed  woman?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  23 

"She's  high-headed  with  some  folks,"  said  the 
boy  with  significant  emphasis.  "You  are  the  gov- 
ernor's daughter,  are  you?" 

"Ah,  ha.    Come  on  down." 

"Mother  wouldn't  like  it." 

"Why  not?" 

"She  doesn't  let  me  go  over  there." 

"What  are  you  'fraid  of?    I  won't  hurt  you." 

"We  don't  know  your  folks." 

"Well,  you'd  better." 

There  was  a  minute  of  silence  during  which  the 
cherry-picker  evidently  was  debating  some  weighty 
question  with  himself.  "Say,"  he  suddenly  re- 
marked. "Can  your  father  get  me  a  commission 
in  the  army?" 

"You  bet  he  can,"  was  the  ready  answer.  "My 
father  can  get  anything." 

The  boy  dropped  lightly  upon  a  flower  bed  in 
the  governor's  yard.  "I  won't  go  into  the  house," 
he  said. 


CHAPTER  III 

A  RAILROAD   MOSTLY   SWAMP 

The  Carpetbag  government  had  begun  to  totter — 
there  could  be  no  doubt  of  that  fact.  The  corrup- 
tionists  who  had  long  overridden  law  and  order 
were  fast  overreaching  themselves  and  a  keen  nos- 
tril already  could  scent  the  coming  of  danger.  The 
old  party,  crushed  to  the  ground,  was  beginning 
to  lift  its  head.  It  had  begun  to  parade  the  streets, 
beneath  the  folds  of  the  conqueror's  flag.  It  had 
begun  to  shout  for  equal  rights  and  to  call  on  the 
Constitution.  In  this  there  surely  was  no  treason, 
but  it  was  dangerous  for  the  dominant  power.  The 
writing  on  the  wall  was  growing  plainer  every  day. 
Willetts  saw  it  and  was  at  no  loss  to  interpret  the 
unwelcome  warning. 

"One  of  these  days  the  streets  out  there  will  be 
so  hot  I  can't  walk  on  them,"  he  said,  as  he  calmly 
surveyed  the  situation,  "but  it's  always  cool  enough 
in  Canada  and  I  know  the  way  there." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  25 

With  the  connivance  of  a  few  cronies  in  the  legis- 
lature he  had  planned  a  last  desperate  assault  upon 
the  treasury  of  the  plundered  state.  A  bill  had 
been  drawn  up  providing  for  a  grant  of  200,000 
acres  of  state  lands  to  a  fictitious  railway  corpora- 
tion, existing  only  on  paper.  Included  in  this  grant 
were  some  of  the  most  valuable  mineral  deposits  of 
the  state.  It  was  a  gigantic  steal  and  Willetts 
hoped  to  make  its  consummation  the  signal  for  his 
second  flight  from  the  South. 

Only  one  point  gave  him  serious  uneasiness — 
the  bill  must  be  signed  by  Governor  Crance.  While 
he  had  no  doubt  that  the  Governor's  signature  could 
easily  be  obtained,  his  knowledge  of  that  official 
caused  him  to  fear  that  the  cost  would  be  prohib- 
itive. He  felt  the  need  of  a  friend  at  court,  not 
for  influence,  but  for  information,  and  turned  to 
Lummers.  "He's  a  two-spot,"  said  the  gambler, 
"but  he  may  save  the  trick  for  us."  As  for  Lum- 
mers he  was  greatly  elated  by  the  new  relation  and 
deeply  gratified  that  he  was  of  sufficient  importance 
to  attract  the  friendly  consideration  of  Mr.  Wil- 
letts. 


26  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

One  morning  as  he  was  sitting  at  his  desk  ex- 
amining letters,  Jim  entered.  Lummers  looked  up 
at  him,  glanced  about  the  room  and  said:  "If  Mr. 
Willetts  calls,  show  him  in  at  once." 

"Yas,  sah,"  Jim  replied,  bowing. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  Lummers  added,  as  Jim 
turned  to  go.  "If  Mr.  Willetts  doesn't  come  till 
after  the  Governor  gets  here,  leave  him  in  the  re- 
ception room  and  bring  in  his  card.    Understand?" 

"Yas,  sah,"  Jim  replied,  turning  away.  But  be- 
fore reaching  the  door  he  halted,  studied  a  moment 
in  a  negro's  heavy  way  and  then  turned  again  to 
Lummers.  "Mr.  Lummers,  'bout  how  long  you 
reckon  dis  yere  job  gwine  t'  last?" 

Lummers  looked  up  in  surprise.  "What  are  you 
talking  about?" 

"I'se  talkin'  'bout  dis  yere  'ministration  Job,  sah. 
I  yere  'em  say  dat — " 

"You  hear  them  say  v^^hat?"  Lummers  broke  in 
irritably. 

Jim  pondered  and  then  replied:  "W'y,  I  yere 
'em  say  dat  dis  wliut  dey  calls  de  kyarpetbag  guber- 
ment  kain.'t  last  much  lonrrer." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  27 

"Well,  you  don't  want  to  hear  anything  like 
that,"  said  Lummers,  shuffling  the  letters,  "and  you 
don't  want  to  be  talking  it,  either.  Do  you  hear?" 
he  added  looking  straight  at  the  negro. 

Jim  ducked  his  head.  "Yas,  sah.  O'  cose  I  likes 
dis  place  all  right  'nough — you  knows  dat — but  you 
also  knows  dat  a  sensible  man  mus'  keep  his  eyes 
open  in  de  lookout  fur  anudder  place  in  case  one 
slips  from  under  him."  He  paused,  scratching  his 
head.  "Yas,  sah.  An'  ef  de  arthquake  should  come 
an'  fling  dis  yere  guberment  in  de  a'r,  you  and  de 
Gub'nor  would  light  on  yo'  feet  all  right  like  a  cat, 
but  whar'd  I  be?"  He  grunted  and  shifted  his 
weight  from  one  leg  to  the  other.  "Huh!  I'd  hit 
de  groun'  an'  flatten  out  like  I  been  flung  ofif'n  a 
house." 

Lummers  handed  him  a  number  of  letters  and 
with  an  air  of  assumed  carelessness  said:  "Stop 
your  cackling.     Drop  these  in  the  box." 

Jim  took  the  letters  and  slowly  walked  out,  mood- 
ily shaking  his  head.  Lummers  lighted  a  cigar. 
"It's  in  the  air/'  he  mused.    "Even  that  negro  sees 


28  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

it.  Well,  we'll  have  to  hurry  things,  and  when  it 
comes  we'll  try  to  land  on  our  feet.  I've  been  here 
going  on  two  years  now,  and  I'm  getting  enough 
of  it."  He  got  up  and  walked  about  the  room.  "If 
Willetts  and  I  can  pull  this  thing  through,  the 
North  will  be  good  enough  for  me.  I  don't  like 
these  Southerners  anyway — always  poking  'round, 
looking  for  somebody  to  insult  'em.  And  if  the 
Governor  lets  them  have  too  much  swing  they'll 
carry  an  election  against  him  and — well,  reconstruc- 
tion's all  right  enough,  but  we  don't  want  to  recon- 
struct too  fast.    Ah!    Come  in." 

Jim  had  shown  Willetts  into  the  room,  and  was 
standing  at  the  door  with  a  grin  on  his  face. 

"Good  morning,"  said  Willetts.  "Has  the  old 
man  got  down  yet?" 

"No,  but  I  think  he'll  be  here- presently.  It's  time 
for  him  now,"  he  added,  glancing  at  the  clock. 

"Send  the  coon  away,"  said  Willetts,  speaking 
in  a  low  tone. 

Lummers  motioned  toward  the  reception  room 
and  Jim  disappeared.    "How  is  it  going?" 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  29 

"Oh,  fairly,"  Willetts  answered.  "Have  you 
sounded  the  old  man?" 

Lummers  shook  his  head.  "I've  been  thinking 
it  over  since  I  saw  you,"  he  said,  "and  I've  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  you'd  better  open  this  deal 
yourself." 

"What's  the  matter?    Knees  weak?" 

"No,"  said  Lummers,  "but  the  fact  is,  I'm  too 
close  to  him.  He  knows  me  too  well.  You  set  the 
ball  rolling  and  I'll  try  to  keep  it  going." 

"Um,"  Willetts  grunted.  "You  are  dead  sure 
about  this,  are  you?  I've  worked  with  him  a  good 
deal,  you  know,  but  on  nothing  very  heavy.  If  I 
could  get  him  into  a  poker  game  I'd  know  his 
character  better.  He  doesn't  always  seem  to  be  the 
same.    Are  you  sure  he  won't  shy  at  the  cars?" 

"Not  if  there's  anything  in  the  cars  he  wants," 
Lummers  replied. 

"How  much  do  you  think  it  will  take  to  fix  this 
end  of  it?" 

"Well,"  said  Lummers,  "the  Governor  isn't  down 
here  for  his  health.  I've  never  known  a  case  where 
he  didn't  want  all  he  thought  he  could  p-et." 


80  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

This  threw  Willetts  into  a  state  of  reflection. 
"That's  just  the  trouble,"  he  said.  "And  if  the  old 
man  gets  a  glimpse  of  our  hands  he'll  blow  us  out 
of  the  pot.  And,  say,  not  a  word  about  the  ore 
deposits.  Let  him  believe,  with  the  rest,  that  it's 
nearly  all  swamp." 

"Yes,"  said  Lummers,  "it's  all  right  to  let  him 
believe  anything  he —  There's  the  Governor," 
he  broke  ofif,  as  a  door  in  the  private  office  slammed. 
"You'd  better  not  be  found  here,"  he  added,  "come 
in  after  a  while.  It  v/ill  look  less  suspicious.  And 
remember  when  you  do  get  at  him,  no  sparring — 
straight  from  the  shoulder." 

Willetts  vanished  and  Lummers  returned  to  his 
desk  and  was  busy  with  papers  when  the  Governor 
entered. 

"Good  morning,  good  morning,"  was  the  old 
man's  brisk  greeting,  as  he  took  his  accustomed 
seat  at  a  flat  top  desk  almost  in  the  center  of  the 
room. 

"Good  morning.  Governor,"  responded  Lum- 
mers, striving  to  give  an  innocent  inflection  to  his 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  31 

voice.  He  placed  a  number  of  letters  and  docu- 
ments upon  the  Governor's  desk  and  returned  to 
the  place  where  he  was  wont  to  sit  in  dull  obscurity, 
ignored  by  politicians  and  overlooked  by  the  aver- 
age lobbyist. 

The  Governor  sat  for  a  time,  musing.  From  the 
walls  there  looked  down  upon  him  the  portraits  of 
Andrew  Jackson,  Henry  Clay,  the  fiery  Calhoun 
and  the  old  Missourian  who  wrote  "Thirty  years  in 
the  American  Senate."  Delicious  perfumes  floated 
in  from  the  neighboring  gardens. 

He  took  up  a  letter.  "Ah — um,"  he  said,  "was 
old  man  Francis  here  to  see  about  that  pardon  for 
his  son?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  Lunmiers  replied,  "he  called  yesterday 
after  you  left." 

"Well,"  added  the  Governor,  reading  a  letter, 
"how  much  did  he  say  they'd  scraped  together?" 

"He  thought  he  could  raise  about  twenty-two 
hundred,"  Lummers  answered. 

"Twenty-two,  eh?"  echoed  the  Carpetbagger, 
shaking  his  head.  "Well,  I  don't  see  how  that  boy 
can  be  innocent  for  less  than  five  thousand." 


32  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

At  that  moment  a  card  was  brought  in.  It  bore 
the  name  of  James  Hill,  and  in  pencil  were  written 
the  words:  "Don't  know  you,  but  must  see  you 
for  your  own  good."  The  man  was  admitted.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  long  black  coat,  shining  with 
wear- 

"Sit  down/'  said  the  Governor.  "Now,"  he 
added,  "come  to  the  point  as  soon  as  you  can." 

"Yes,  sir.    I  am  of  a  type  of  men " 

"I  know  your  type  all  right.    Go  ahead." 

"I  beg  your  pardon." 

"Granted,  go  on." 

"But  I  must  get  at  it  in  my  own  way,  sir.  I 
am  of  a  type  which  bobs  up  on  certain  occasions 
and  then  bobs  out  of  sight  forever.  You  may 
never  see  me  again." 

The  Governor's  eyes  began  to  twinkle.  "You 
alarm  me,"  he  said.  "It  is  sad  to  chop  off  a  pleas- 
ant acquaintance  so  abruptly.    But  your  business?" 

"Yes,  sir.  In  my  nature  there  is  an  abhorrence 
of  bloodshed." 

"You  surprise  me,"  said  the  Governor.  "How 
did  that  happen?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  33 

"Born  that  way.    I  have  called  to  warn  you." 

"Against  what?" 

"An  assassin,  who  would  take  your  life," 

"Did  you  bring  him  with  you?" 

*'I  am  serious,  sir.  I  heard  this  man  swear  that 
he  was  going  to  have  your  blood." 

"Not  all  of  it,  I  hope." 

"He  is  going  to  shoot  you  on  sight.  Pull  down 
your  curtain.  Don't  expose  yourself  at  night. 
That's  all." 

"Much  obliged  to  you,"  said  the  Governor. 

"Not  at  all.     And  now,  I  have  a  favor  to  ask." 

The  Governor's  eyes  began  to  twinkle  again. 
"Go  ahead." 

"I  understand  that  a  member  has  been  expelled 
from  the  house.    I  want  his  place." 

"Hm!    What  qualifications  do  you  possess?" 

"Intelligence  and  devotion  to  duty.  I  would 
serve  you  well.    I  am  an  honorable  man." 

"So  I  see.  You  want  me  to  put  you  in  the 
house — to  order  a  special  election  from  an  out-of- 
the-way  county  and  declare  you  elected.  Is  that 
it?" 


34  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"Well,  yes,  sir;  that  is  about  it." 

*'My  friend,"  said  the  Governor,  "I  am  about  as 
well  acquainted  with  rascality  as  the  majority  of 
men.  I  like  the  average  rascal.  But  I  am  afraid 
you  are  a  little  over-drawn.  Get  out  of  here— just 
as  quick  as  you  can." 

"If  I  go  out,  sir,  I  shall  leave  you  to  your  fate." 

"Well,  do  it.    Who  is  it,  Jim?" 

"Mr.  Willetts,  sah." 

As  Mr.  Hill  passed  out  Willetts  stared  at  him, 

"Governor,"  began  the  lobbyist,  "there  are 
times " 

"Yes,  I  know  that;  but  what  is  it?" 

"There  are  times  when  a  man  ought  to  be  partic- 
ular. This  is  one  of  them.  How  did  that  fellow 
manage  to  get  in  here?  He's  the  worst  man  in  the 
community.  He  was  a  deserter  from  both  sides 
during  the  war  and  was  convicted  for  stealing 
cotton." 

"Since  the  war?" 

"Yes." 

"What  a  thief!  Of  course  it's  another  matter  if 
he  stole  it  during  the  war.    What's  up?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  35 

"Governor,"  said  Willetts,  "I  am  interested  in  a 
house  bill  introduced  the  other  day.  It  pro- 
vides  " 

"Ah,  ha!"  the  Governor  exclaimed,  reading  from 
a  letter  he  had  just  opened.  "  'Unless  you  abdicate 
that  office  and  leave  the  state  within  a  week  I  will 
shoot  the  top  of  your  head  ofif.'  The  top  of  my 
head.  Not  the  side  or  the  bottom — just  the  top. 
That's  generous."  He  crumpled  the  letter,  threw 
it  into  a  waste-paper  basket  and  nodding  at  his 
visitor  said:    "Go  ahead." 

Willetts  sighed,  glanced  over  at  Lummers  and 
continued:  "The  bill  provides  for  a  right  of  way 
and  land  grant  of  about  two-hundred  thousand 
acres — um,  mostly  swamp — to  the  Midland  railway 
company?" 

The  old  man  glanced  up  quickly.  "What's  that?" 
he  said.    "What  railroad?" 

"Well,  the  corporation,  Governor,  as  yet  has  not 
been  completely  organized." 

"Um — that's  mostly  swamp,  too,  is  it?" 

Willetts  hesitated.     The  Governor  continued  to 


38  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

read  his  letters.  ""Well,  go  ahead,"  he  commandedi 
and  then,  addressed  himself  to  a  letter:  "  'Will 
shoot  you  on  sight.'  Signed  'John  Pardue'."  He 
turned  to  Lummers.  "Who's  John  Pardue? 
Didn't  we  get  a  letter  from  him  some  time  ago?" 

"I  think  we  did,  sir,"  Lummers  answered. 

"Well,  if  John  can't  shoot  any  better  than  he 
writes  he  couldn't  hit  a  prairie  set  up  on  edge." 
Then,  turning  to  Willetts,  he  added:  "Go  on,  sir; 
go  on." 

Willetts  again  essayed  to  explain  the  scope  of  the 
bill,  though  now  in  rather  a  disappointed  way. 
"This  road,"  he  proceeded,  "will  be  a  good  thing 
for  the  state  in  every  way.  It  will  build  up  towns 
and  serve  as  a  commercial  highway  for  a  very  rich 
section  of  country " 

"Mostly  swamp?"  the  Governor  interrupted, 
looking  up,  with  droll  humor. 

The  lobbyist  wavered.  He  felt  the  cold  gray 
eyes  of  the  Governor  boring  through  him  and  knew 
that  equivocation  was  hopeless.  But  he  made  a 
bold  rally. 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  37 

"Well,  yes,"  he  said,  ''on  the  left  it  is  pretty  much 
swamp.  But  over  here,"  he  added  with  a  motion 
of  his  hand,  "you  see,  it  cuts  off  two  himdred  miles 
of  unnecessary  river  transportation — and,  well " 

"I  see,"  said  the  Governor. 

"In  fact,"  continued  Willetts,  with  forced  im- 
pressiveness,  "it  will  be  a  mighty  good  thing — for 
all  of  us." 

The  Governor  glanced  at  him.    "Who's  'us'?" 

"Well,  all  of  us,  you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  the  Governor  admitted,  "but 
what  part  of  the  'us'  am  I?" 

This  staggered  the  lobbyist  for  a  moment  but  he 
rallied  his  faculties.  "Financially,  Governor,"  he 
said,  confidentially,  "that  word  shall  be  spelled  with 
a  capital  YOU." 

"Spread  your  scheme,"  said  the  Governor,  turn- 
ing again  to  his  letters.  "  'Has  left  this  county  for 
the  capital',"  he  proceeded,  reading  aloud,  "  'and  I 
have  cause  to  believe  that  he  means  bodily  harm  to 
you'.  Lummers,  who  is  Nat  Robey?  Ever  hear  of 
him?" 


38  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"I've  heard  that  he  is  a  desperate  character,  sir," 
said  Lummers,  turning  in  his  chair. 

"Hm!"  remarked  the  Governor.  "The  Sheriff 
of  Dixon  county  says  that  Mr.  Robey  is  on  his  way 
down  here.  By  the  way,  isn't  he  the  fellow  that 
Jim  disarmed  out  there  the  other  day?  Jim!"  he 
called. 

"Yas,  sah,"  Jim  answered,  stepping  into  the 
room. 

''You  took  a  gun  from  a  man  out  there  the  other 
day.    Wasn't  his  name  Robey?" 

"Who,  dat  generman  wid  de  yaller  ha'r?  Naw, 
sah,  his  name  was  Mr.  Crane." 

"I  thought  the  yellow-haired  fellow  was  Ruther- 
ford." 

"Naw,  sah,"  said  Jim,  brightening  with  the  self- 
compliment  of  his  own  recollection,  "Mr.  Ruther- 
ford wuz  de  generman  whut  come  wid  a  thing  wid 
a  fuse  in  it  an'  tried  ter  set  it  afire  in  de  house." 

"All  right,"  said  the  Governor,  waving  him  back 
to  his  post. 

"Governor,"  cautioned  Lummers,  "you  ought  to 
be  more  careful." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  39 

"You  ought  not  to  take  such  chances,  Governor," 
Willetts  spoke  up. 

"Go  ahead  with  your  land  grant,"  said  the  Gov- 
ernor, taking  up  another  letter. 

Willetts  again  proceeded:  "The  bill,  as  I  said, 
has  been  introduced,  and  after  the  first  reading  has 
been  referred  to  a  committee.  I  think  it  will  be 
reported  favorably,  but  it  may  require  a  little — ^at- 
tention— on  our  part." 

"Um-yes,"  said  the  Governor.  "Astonishing, 
isn't  it,  how  much  hard  work  is  sometimes  re- 
quired to  accomplish  a — ^praiseworthy — object?" 

Willetts  sighed.  '1  could  wish,"  said  he,  "that 
you  seemed  a  little  more  interested." 

"Interested!"  the  Governor  exclaimed.  "Why, 
I  am  tickled  to  death  with  it.    Go  ahead." 

Jim  stepped  into  the  room  and  holding  out  a 
telegram  toward  Lummers  said:  "Anudder  one 
deze  yaller  letters,  sah."  Lummers  handed  the 
telegram  to  the  Governor,  who  tore  it  open  and 
read  aloud:  "Jasper,  Hilliard  County,  April  sixth: 
Newly  appointed  sheriff  assassinated  last  night  by 
KuKlux." 


40  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"Lummers,"  he  said,  "order  two  companies  of 
militia  quartered  in  the  town."  Then  he  addressed 
Willetts:  "If  I  understand  you  this  land  is  for  a 
railroad — a  road,  in  fact,  much  needed  by  our 
people." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Willetts,  brightening,  "one  that 
will  greatly  benefit  the  state." 

"Uin,"  the  chief  executive  grunted,  "yes.  Has 
it  occurred  to  you  that  on  occasions  of  this  sort  I 
sometimes  am  the  state?" 

"Well,"  Willetts  drawled,  "not  exactly  in  that 
light,  but,  perhaps — " 

The  Governor  broke  in  upon  him:  "How  much 
will  the  state  be  benefited?  In  that  light — how 
much?" 

Willets  reflected.  "Would  the  state  regard  thirty 
thousand  dollars  as  suf^cient  benefit?"  he  asked. 

The  Governor  turned  to  Lummers.  "Issue  an 
order  for  the  arrest  of  James  Strickland,  of  Marion- 
ville,  and  have  him  brought  to  this  city."  Proceed- 
ing to  read  another  letter  he  remarked  for  the  bene- 
fit of  Willetts:  "When  the  state  is  very  busy  it  can 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  41 

scarcely  afford  to  divert  its  mind  into  other  chan- 
nels for  so  small  a  sum.  To  give — er — conscientious 
attention,  the  state  must  be  better  paid." 

Willetts  leaned  towards  him.  "Say  fifty  thou- 
sand." 

"Ah,"  exclaimed  the  executive.  "The  state's  ear 
is  a  little  warmer  toward  that  proposition.  Say  fifty 
— ^when  the  bill  is  signed.  What's  been  done?  Any 
opposition?" 

"Well,  yes,  of  course  there's  a  little.  Represen- 
tative Felton  says — " 

"Felton,  eh?  He  has  been  trying  to  get  an  ap- 
pointment for  his  son-in-law.  Leave  Felton  to 
me. 

"The  only  real  element  of  strength  brought 
against  us,"  added  Willetts,  "is  Wiley  Jones." 

"Jones,"  mused  the  Governor.  "Wiley  Jones — 
yes,  of  Spencer  county." 

"Well,"  said  Willetts,  "he  lives  down  the  river  a 
short  distance  from  here,  but  he  represents  Spencer 
county." 

"I  understand,"  the  old  man  replied.    "Let's  see, 


42  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

wasn't  his  election  contested?  I  sided  in  his  favor 
— before  all  the  facts  were  known,  you  understand," 
he  said  with  a  wink.  "Additional  evidence  might 
render  it  necessary  to  reopen  Mr.  Jones'  case.  You 
go  to  him — yourself — and  tell  him  I  want  to  see 
him  here  right  away." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  ALLIGATOR  BOY 

Above  the  door  leading  to  his  private  office  the 
Governor  had  placed  a  bust  of  Lincoln  and  many  a 
time,  in  the  midst  of  his  threatening  letters  and  the 
manifold  annoyances  that  beset  him,  he  would  turn 
to  gaze  upon  it.  Dishonor  contemplating  the  em- 
blem of  Honesty.  At  such  times  even  the  dull- 
minded  Lummers  could  fancy  a  struggle  in  the 
mind  of  his  master.  But  the  struggle,  if  at  all,  was 
ever  brief.  Vice  often  pays  silent  homage  to  vir- 
tues it  will  not  emulate. 

When  Willetts  left  the  room  the  Governor  turned 
to  the  bust,  his  face  serious,  a  letter  crumpled  in 
his  hand.  Suddenly  he  looked  at  Lummers  as  if 
he  felt  the  intrusion  of  a  stealthy  gaze. 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"Nothing,  sir,"  Lummers  replied. 

"What  were  you  looking  at  me  for?" 

43 


44  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"I  didn't— didn't  know  I  was  looking." 

"Um,  you  didn't?  Well,  see  that  you  know  when 
you're  looking  after  this." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  young  man's  humility  touched  him.  "I 
didn't  mean  anything  by  that,  Lummers,"  he  said. 
"It  was  a  joke.  What  do  you  do  with  your  money, 
anyway?" 

"I  send  it  home,  sir." 

"That's  right,  take  care  of  it.  There'll  come  a 
time  when  it  will  not  be  so  easy  to  get.  I'm  going 
to  raise  your  salary." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  sir." 

"For  the  advice  or  the  increase  of  salary?" 

"For — for  both,"  Lummers  stammered. 

"All  right.  But  let  me  tell  you,  the  advice  is 
worth  most." 

He  took  a  paper  out  of  a  drawer  and  began  to 
read.  After  a  time  he  put  it  down  and  fell  into  a 
deep  muse.  In  the  air  there  was  a  suggestion  of  a 
change  in  the  season,  and  his  mind  flew  back  to  a 
time  when  he  worked  on  a  farm  in  Illinois.     He 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  45 

looked  at  the  palm  of  his  hand  as  if  to  trace  the 
reminder  of  a  day  of  heavy  labor.  His  life  had 
been  hard,  a  waif  bound  to  an  exacting  farmer. 
When  the  boys  of  the  South,  recently  his  foemen, 
had  danced  rapturously  with  the  negroes  in  the 
quarter;  when,  at  Christmas  time,  they  had  come 
home  to  be  worshipped  as  the  heirs  of  a  great  baron, 
he  had  gone  at  daylight  to  the  barn  to  milk  the 
cows.  How  well  he  remembered  the  creak  of  the 
frozen  door,  the  farmer's  scolding,  the  cheerless 
breakfast!  And  there  above  the  door  were  the  stern 
features  of  one  whose  boyhood,  like  his  own,  had 
been  a  span  of  toil  and  deprivation.  "But  he  came 
to  save  the  sons  of  a  down-trodden  race,"  he  said 
aloud,  and  Lummers  looked  up.  Just  at  that  mo- 
ment Jim  was  heard,  outside. 

"Say,  hoi'  on  dar,  lady,  you  kain't  go  in  dar' 
lessen  you's  'nounced." 

"The  idea!"  came  a  voice  in  reply.  "Go  'way  from 
here,  you  impudent  thing!"  and  then  Nellie  came 
bounding  into  the  room. 

"Why,  hello!  hello!"  cried  the  Governor,  bright- 
ening.   "What  are  you  doing  down  here?" 


46  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

She  ran  forward,  gave  the  Governor  a  hearty  kiss 
and  took  a  seat  opposite  him.  "Is  this  chair  for 
me?  I've  been  here  nearly  two  weeks  and  you've 
promised  me  every  day  you'd  bring  me  down  to 
see  the  state  house  and  you  haven't  done  it.  So 
I've  just  come  myself."  She  reached  over  and  took 
up  a  paper.    "What's  this?" 

The  Governor  gently  took  it  from  her.  "Never 
mind." 

"But  what  is  it?"  she  insisted. 

"Something  that  doesn't  concern  you.  It's  a  par- 
don." 

"For  a  man?"  she  cried.  "What  did  he  do?  Kill 
somebody?" 

"Worse  than  that,"  said  the  Governor,  smiling. 

"Worse  than  that?  How  many  did  he  kill?  A 
whole  family?" 

"No,  he  stole  a  horse." 

"The  mean  thing!    Did  he  beat  the  horse?" 

"Beat  the  horse's  owner,  I  guess." 

Lummers  came  forward  to  place  some  papers  on 
the  desk.    The  Governor,  glancing  at  one  of  them, 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  4? 

asked:  "What  is  Senate  bill  147?  Oh,  I  see,  a 
change  in  the  Bolivar  county  line.  All  right."  He 
signed  the  paper  and  handed  it  back  to  Lummers, 
who,  glancing  at  the  visitor,  returned  to  his  desk, 
leaving  the  executive  with  his  letters.  Several 
dingy  portraits  upon  the  walls  soon  became  the 
objects  of  Nellie's  inquisitive  regard.  "Why  don't 
you  have  some  prettier  pictures  here?"  she  asked. 

"Don't  blame  me  for  those  things,"  was  the  reply. 
"They  were  here  before  I  came." 

"But  who  are  they?"  she  insisted. 

"Statesmen." 

"Where  are  they  now?" 

"I  don't  know — they're  dead." 

"What!    All  of  'em  dead?" 

"Very — that's  why  they  are  statesmen.  If  they 
were  alive,  they'd  be  politicians." 

There  was  a  brief  interval  of  silence  and  then  the 
young  woman  broke  in  ecstatically,  "Oh,  I've  been 
having  the  loveliest  time  down  here!"  she  cried. 
"I've  had  more  fun  here  in  two  weeks  than  I  ever 
could  have  in  that  old  Chicago  school.     But  I've 


48  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

met  some  of  the  funniest  folks.  Aren't  they  odd? 
One  old  woman  laughed  at  me  because  I  said  you 
used  to  be  the  best  auctioneer  in  Chicago.  But  you 
were,  weren't  you?" 

"I  guess  that's  so,"  said  the  Governor,  with  a 
chuckle. 

"But  I  don't  like  the  girls  very  well,"  Nellie  went 
on,  "And  stuck  up!  One  of  them  said  you  stole 
this  office."  She  glanced  about  the  room.  "You 
didn't,  did  you?" 

"Nonsense,"  said  the  Governor,  laughing. 

"But  how  did  you  get  it?" 

"Well,"  said  the  Governor,  his  eyes  twinkling, 
"the  other  fellow  moved  out  and  I  moved  in." 

"They  call  you  a  'carpetbagger',"  she  continued, 
with  a  suspicious  quiver  in  her  voice.  "They  say 
you  are  'only  a  carpetbag  governor.'  Is  that  any- 
thing so — so — awfully  bad?" 

He  wheeled  about  in  his  chair  and  looked  full 
upon  her.  There  was  a  hard,  stern  look  in  his  face 
and  his  hands  opened  and  closed  nervously.  She 
was  the  one  object  on  earth  whom  he  worshipped; 


THE   CARPETBAGGER 


49 


he  could  have  throttled  anyone  who  would  cause 
her  pain.     For  the  first  time  the  unpleasant  truth  . 
was  brought  home  to  him  that  his  own  deeds  and 
misdeeds,  his  reputation,  would  descend  as  a  herit- 
age to  his  daughter. 

"Don't  mind  them,"  he  said,  huskily,  as  he  arose 
to  his  feet  and  strode  angrily  up  and  down  the 
room.  "Don't  mind  anything  they  say.  They  don't 
like  us  very  well  down  here.  You  are  merely  visit- 
ing the  plundered  camps  of  the  enemy,  my  dear; 
that's  all." 

"Who  plundered  them?"  she  inquired,  innocently. 

The  Governor  winced.  "The  fortunes  and  mis- 
fortunes of  war,'  he  said.  "Don't  you  bother  your 
pretty  head  about  me.  And  don't  you  let  them 
worry  you,  either,"  he  added,  his  resentment  rising, 
"If  they  tell  you  I  am  an  interloper  here,  say  to 
them  that  the  supreme  power  of  this  nation  has 
set  me  here  and  placed  in  my  hands  the  authority 
of  a  czar.  If  they  say  that  the  only  wealth  I  brought 
to  the  state  of  Mississippi  was  an  empty  carpetbag 
tell  them  that  I  came  here  with  a  full  cartridge- 
belt." 


50  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

The  Governor's  tall  form,  swayed  by  emotion, 
was  drawn  up  to  its  full  height.  His  eyes  were 
blazing.  In  his  voice  there  was  the  defiant  intona- 
tion of  a  wounded  animal  at  bay.  A  moment  later 
he  sank  into  his  chair,  turned  to  his  desk  and  picked 
up  a  letter. 

"Don't  mind  them,"  he  said  calmly. 

"I  won't,"  replied  Nellie,  with  a  toss  of  her  curls. 
"Only  this  morning  I  told  Roy  you'd  make  it 
pretty  hot  for  somebody  if  you  ever  heard  — " 

"Roy?    Who's  Roy?" 

"Oh,  I  forgot.  You  don't  know  Roy,  do  you? 
Well,  he's  awfully  nice.  He  lives  in  that  big  stone 
house  just  across  the  wall  from  us." 

"Doesn't  the  Widow  Fairburn  live  there?" 

"Ah,  ha.    He's  her  son.    Don't  you  know  her?" 

"Well,  yes — when  I  see  her.  The  fact  is,  you 
know,  I've  been  so  busy  since  I  came  here  that 
I  haven't  had  very  much  time  for  society." 

"Well,  he's  awfully  brave.  He  wants  to  be  a  cap- 
tain in  the  army  and  go  out  West  to  fight  Indians. 
That's  one  of  the  reasons  I'm  down  here  now." 

"Why?    Because  he  wants  to  fight  Indians?" 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  51 

"No,  because  he  wants  to  be  a  Captain.  I  told 
him  you'd  get  it  for  him," 

"Get  it  for  him!"  exclaimed  the  governor  with  a 
smile.  "Why,  he'd  have  to  go  through  West  Point 
first." 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "he  wouldn't  care  about  that. 
He'd  just  let  that  part  of  it  go." 

"Ah!  He'd  be  willing  to  waive  West  Point, 
would  he?    That's  generous." 

"Ah,  ha,"  she  cried,  nodding  her  head.  "Oh, 
come!  Get  it  for  him.  I  told  him  you  would.  And 
really,  I'm  under  the  greatest  obligations  to  him." 

"What!    So  soon?"  exclaimed  the  Governor. 

"Soon!  Why,  it  isn't  so  soon.  He's  been  awfully 
kind  to  me.  And  he  gave  me  just  the  loveliest 
alligator  you  ever  saw.  So  long."  She  put  her 
fingers  on  her  arm  to  measure  the  length  of  the 
reptile. 

**Gave  you  a  what?" 

"Ah,  ha,"  she  rattled  on,  "and  it's  just  the  sweet- 
est thing.  You  ought  to  see  how  cute  he  shuts  his 
c^yes. 

"Where  is  he  now?" 


62  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Out  there,"  she  answered,  pointing  toward  the 
reception  room. 

"Jim,"  the  Governor  called,  "bring  in  that  alli- 
gator." 

"Oh,  no,"  Nellie  cried.    "It's  Roy." 

"Well,  Where's  the  alligator?  I'm  interested  in 
him  now." 

"He's  up  in  your  room,  with  the  cat  and  the 
parrot  and  Bulger,"  meaning  by  the  latter  as  ugly 
a  bull-dog  as  ever  sniffed  about  the  portals  of  a 
livery  stable. 

*'In  my  room,  eh?    Any  room  up  there  for  me?" 

Nellie  laughed.  "Well,  you'll  have  to  take  your 
chances." 

"Um!  That's  what  I've  been  doing  ever  since 
I  came  here." 

"But  really,"  the  girl  continiied,  returning  to  her 
benefactor,  "he's  been  ever  so  kind  to  me.  And 
you  ought  to  see  him  eat  flies!"  she  cried,  with 
enthusiasm. 

"What!    The  boy?" 

"No— the  alligator." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  53 

"Oh  1  And  the  boy  is  out  there?  Have  him  come 
in." 

"He  can't  come  in.  The  black  man  won't  let 
him." 

"And  he's  going  to  be  an  Indian  fighter,  too?" 

"Well,"  she  pouted,  "Indians  are  different." 

"Are  they?  We'll  see.  Jim,"  he  called,  "show 
in  that  young  Indian  fighter." 

Roy  appeared,  gorgeous  in  a  uniform  that  looked 
as  if  it  had  been  made  for  the  drum  major  of  a 
country  brass  band. 

"Come  in,  Roy,"  the  girl  cried.    "It's  all  right!" 

The  Governor  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 
"Um!  Good  morning.  Bub,"  he  said,  with  as- 
sumed gravity.    "Are  you  the  alligator  boy?" 

The  young  fellow  bristled  up.  "No,  sir;  I'm  not 
an  alligator  boy.    I'm  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier." 

"There!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  clapping  her  hands. 

"Where's  your  command?"  the  Governor  asked. 

*'Well,  I  haven't  got  one — yet,"  the  boy  replied. 

"Hm!"  ejaculated  the  Governor,  quizzically  in- 
specting   the    youngster's    nondescript    clothing. 


54  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"That's  fortunate.  Where  did  you  get  that  uni- 
form?" 

"This  is  something  I  planned  myself,"  was  the 
proud  reply.     "Do  you  think  it's  all  right,  sir?" 

The  Governor  laughed.  "Well,  I  should  say  so. 
But  what  is  it,  anyway?    What  does  it  mean?" 

After  a  moment  of  bashful  hesitancy,  the  young 
man  again  found  his  voice.  "It  means  just  this," 
he  said.  "Every  fellow  in  this  town  who  amounts 
to  shucks  went  into  the  army  a  private  and  came 
out  a  colonel  or  a  lieutenant  or  a  major  or  some- 
thing. They  wouldn't  let  me  go.  I  was  too  young. 
So  I  had  to  stay  at  home  and  look  after  mother, 
and  now  when  everyone  is  talking  about  Bull  Run 
and  Shiloh  and  Manassas  Junction  and  Gettysburg, 
where  do  I  come  in?  Do  you  think  I'm  going 
to  be  a  dummy  right  through  life  just  because 
father  and  mother  didn't  begin  housekeeping  early 
enough?  I  want  to  fight.  I  want  a  chance  to  show 
the  stuff  I  am  made  of.  I  want  a  commission  in  the 
army.    Nellie  says  you  will  get  me  one.    Will  you?" 

The  Governor  arose.    "I  salute  you,  sir,"  he  said. 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  55 

"But  I  don't  know  just  how  I  should  address  you. 
Your  epaulettes  tell  me  you  are  a  general;  your 
chevrons  say  you  are  a  sergeant;  your  buttons  that 
you  are  a  colonel;  your  sash — I  am  not  on  to — and 
your  braid  says  you  are  a  drum  major.  We'll  have 
to  compromise  this  some  way,  won't  we — eh — 
Captain?" 

The  Governor  gave  a  military  salute,  which  Roy 
returned  awkwardly. 

"Is  he  a  captain  now?"  inquired  Nellie.  "Oh, 
goody!     Come  on,  Roy!" 

"Wait!  "exclaimed  the  old  Carpetbagger.  "My 
daughter  tells  me  you  have  been  very  kind  to  her. 
I  want  to  thank  you.  She  also  informs  me  that 
you  have  an  ambition  to  slaughter  Indians." 

"Yes,  sir;  if  you  please," 

"Why?    Indians  ever  do  you  any  harm?" 

"N — no,  sir — never  had  a  chance.  Would  if  they 
could." 

Lummers  stepped  forward  and  placed  another 
paper  on  the  Governor's  desk.  "Here's  a  matter," 
said  he,  "that  ought  to  be  looked  into  to-day.  It's 
up  for  passage  to-morrow." 


56  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Yes;  all  right,"  and  then  turning  to  Nellie,  he 
added:  "I'm  afraid  I'll  not  have  time  to  show  you 
over  the  state  house  to-day.  But  some  other 
time — " 

''Let  me  do  it!"  Roy  exclaimed.  "I  know  every 
inch  of  it." 

"Oh,  will  you?"  cried  Nellie,  clapping  her  hands. 

The  Governor  saluted  him.  "Thank  you — Cap- 
tain." 

Nellie  seized  Roy's  hand  and  they  scampered  oflf, 
the  Governor  looking  after  them  with  a  smile.  Call- 
ing Jim  and  motioning  toward  the  private  ofiEice, 
he  said:    "Bring  in  the  heavy  artillery." 

"Yas,  sah,"  the  negro  replied,  with  a  chuckle, 
hastening  out  as  if  the  execution  of  the  command 
required  the  utmost  speed.  The  Governor  resumed 
the  work  of  examining  his  papers.  "More  trouble," 
he  mused.  "Coming  up  like  dandelions  after  a 
spring  rain." 

Jim  entered  with  a  demijohn  and  a  glass.  "Dis 
yere  is  a  mighty  powerful  dockyment,"  he  said. 

"What's  that?"  the  Governor  demanded.  "How 
do  you  know?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  57 

"I  ain't  sayin'  nuthin',  sah." 

"Well,  see  that  you  don't." 

"Dat's  whut  I's  doin',  sah,  jest  ez  fas'  ez  I  kin — 
dat's  whut  Fs  yere  fur." 

The  Governor  swung  the  demijohn  over  his 
shoulder  and  poured  out  a  drink.  Holding  up  the 
glass  he  looked  at  it  for  a  time.  "Lummers,"  he 
said,  "leave  it  alone.  It's  as  bright  as  the  sunshine 
in  the  corn-fields  of  old  Illinois.  But  it's  a  treacher- 
ous mixture — the  laughter  of  the  fool,  the  sigh  of 
the  philosopher  and  the  tear  of  woman." 

Jim  stepped  forward  and  handed  him  a  card.  He 
glanced  at  the  name,  put  the  demijohn  on  the  floor 
and  the  glass  of  whisky,  untasted,  on  the  desk. 
"Lucy  Linford — Linford,"  he  repeated,  still  looking 
at  the  card.  "Sounds  as  if  she  might  have  just 
stepped  out  of  a  dime  novel — yellow  back,  maybe." 

"I  dunno,  sah,"  said  Jim.  "She  ain't  turned 
round  yit." 

"Show  the  lady  in." 


CHAPTER  V 
OLD  Steve's  missionary 

There  was  barely  time  enough  to  hide  the  glass 
of  whiskey  beneath  the  desk  and  to  jam  the  demi- 
john into  a  wastebasket,  covering  it  with  paper,  be- 
fore a  tall  young  woman  was  ushered  into  the  room. 
She  came  with  a  swish,  a  smile  and  a  dash — a  dainty 
bit  of  newest  fashion,  graceful,  bright  and  hand- 
some. 

The  Governor  bowed.  "Won't  you  be  seated, 
Miss?"  he  said,  motioning  to  a  chair.  Then,  as  if 
afraid  he  had  made  a  mistake,  he  added,  looking 
again  at  the  card,  "Or  Mrs.?" 

"Thank  you,"  the  caller  replied,  seating  herself. 
"Either  one — ^just  as  you  please." 

The  old  Carpetbagger  gave  her  a  quick,  penetrat- 
ing glance.  Then  he  looked  at  Lummers  signifi- 
cantly. "Very  well,"  he  said  dryly.  "If  there's  no 
difference  we'll  make  it  'Miss'." 

58 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  59 

She  smiled  and  handed  him  a  letter.  "Ah,"  he 
exclaimed,  reading,  "  'Stephen  Parker.'  What's  old 
Steve  doing  now?  Oh,  I  see,  president  of  the  Great 
Western  Book  Company.  Yes.  I've  known  old 
Steve  a  good  many  years — used  to  run  a  second- 
hand book  store  in  Cincinnati;  dealt  largely  in  dam- 
aged literature.  I  auctioned  off  a  car-load  of  his 
stuff  once.  We  used  to  sock  literature  into  Chi- 
cago in  job  lots  in  those  days — baled  it  and  sold 
it  throughout  the  West  by  the  ton." 

She  smiled  at  him.  "As  you  see,  Mr.  Parker  is 
now  in  the  publishing  business." 

"Um,  yes.    Well,  Steve  always  was  a  hustler." 

"School  books,"  she  added. 

"Ah,  are  you  selling  school-books?" 

"Oh,  no;  but  I'm  here  on  a  similar  mission." 

"Ah,  ha.  Well,  this  ought  to  be  a  pretty  good 
missionary  field." 

"Yes,"  she  admitted,  throwing  off  a  grace,  which 
the  Governor  caught  with  humorous  gallantry.  "I 
understand,"  she  went  on,  "  that  your  legislature  is 
about  to  pass  a  public  school  law,  which  provides 


60  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

for  the  building  of  school  houses  in  all  parts  of  the 
state."  She  paused  to  throw  off  a  few  more  graces. 
"And  of  course,  school  houses  without  school 
books,  you  know,  would  be  a  foolish  expenditure." 

"Hm!"  ejaculated  the  Governor,  the  true  light 
beginning  to  break  upon  him.  "And  your  mission- 
ary scheme  is — " 

"Books.  Our  firm  is  regarded  as  the  leader  in  all 
the  advanced  educational  movements  of  the  day. 
We  want  to  join  hands  with  the  state  of  Mississippi 
and,  under  this  law,  provide  all  the  text  books 
needed  to  carry  forward  this  grand  reform  move- 
ment." 

"At  what  price?" 

"Well,  we  have  felt  that  if  we  were  given  the 
exclusive  right  to  furnish  text  books  for  all  the 
schools  of  this  state  for,  say  five  years,  perhaps 
some — arrangement — could  be  made  by  which  it 
would  not  be  absolutely  necessary  to  mention  prices 
in  the  law  at  all." 

"Who  would  fix  the  prices?" 

"Oh,  that  needn't  stand  in  the  way.  We  could 
do  that." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  61 

The  Governor  looked  at  her  curiously.  "We?" 
he  repeated. 

"The  company," 

*'Oh,  the  company.  I  see.  The  seller  could  fix 
the  prices." 

She  slightly  inclined  her  head.  "Of  course  we 
expect  to  pay  for  the  right  to — " 

"You  merely  want  to  save  the  consumer  all 
trouble  and  worry  about  what  he  shall  pay." 

The  caller  laughed.  Sitting  as  she  was  in  a  light 
now  unmistakably  true  the  Governor  tapped  a  bell 
upon  his  desk.  The  negro  appeared.  "Jim,"  he 
said,  "another  glass."  Then  he  grabbed  the  demi- 
john out  of  the  basket  and  took  his  glass  of  whisky 
from  its  concealment.  "Even  missionaries,"  he 
continued,  "are  sometimes  not  averse  to  this  sort 
of  spiritual  revival." 

"Oh,  Governor,"  the  woman  protested,  "I  never 
drink." 

"Why,  of  course  not,  but — " 

"Well,  just  a  little,  then— just  the  least  bit." 

He  poured  out  a  drink  that  would  have  jolted  a 


62  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

deck-hand,  looking  at  her  with  a  quizzical  smile. 
She  tossed  off  the  liquor  without  a  ruffle  in  her 
countenance.  The  Governor,  after  a  moment  of 
surprise  at  her  calm  ability  to  swallow  the  heroic 
draught,  followed  her  example,  and  then  asked: 
"Got  a  sample?" 

"Oh,  no  more  for  me,"  she  protested. 

"I  mean  have  you  got  a  sample  of  your  books?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  replied,  handing  him  a  volume. 
"Here  is  our  fifth  reader."  He  took  the  book  and 
began  to  examine  it.  "You  observe,"  she  went  on, 
"that  it  is  splendidly  bound.  The  type  is  large  and 
clear.  The  paper  is  high-class,  and  the  book  is 
well-made,  substantial,  and — " 

"That's  bad/'  the  Governor  broke  in.  "For  the 
publishers,  of  course.  Don't  wear  out  soon  enough, 
do  they?" 

Old  Steve's  agent  laughed.  The  Governor  con- 
tinued to  examine  the  book,  turning  the  leaves  as 
if  looking  for  something.  "Ah,"  he  exclaimed,  "but 
Where's  'Rienzi's  Address  to  the  Romans'?  This 
isn't  like  my  old  book.    Where  is  Tt  was  Saturday 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  63 

night  and  the  widow  of  the  pine  cottage  sat  by 
her  blazing  faggots  with  her  five  chattering  children 
at  her  side'?  Remember  that?  What's  become  of 
that  touching  inquiry,  'What  is  that,  mother?  The 
lark,  my  child'?  What  have  you  done  with  'It 
snows!  cries  the  school-boy'?  Where's  'He  never 
smiled  again'?  Remember  'The  bark  that  held 
the  Prince  went  down'?    Where's  that?" 

This  was  a  criticism  which  the  agent  had  not 
expected,  though  it  was  only  the  natural  fault-find- 
ing of  a  man  who  had  studied  old  McGufifey.  But 
no  great  strain  had  been  put  upon  her  resources, 
so  she  smiled  as  she  replied:  "If  you  examine  a 
little  closer  you  will  find  other  selections  more 
modern,  more  advanced,  more  beautiful." 

"More  beautiful!"  the  Governor  exclaimed. 
"What  could  be  more  beautiful  than  'We  must  edu- 
cate, we  must  educate  or  we  must  perish'?" 

"That's  our  platform  precisely,"  she  cried.  "You 
have  struck  the  vital  issue.  Only  you  take  a  senti- 
mental view  of  education;  we  look  at  the  matter  in 
a  more — practical — light." 


64  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

The  Governor  was  about  to  reply  when  Jim 
stepped  forward  and  handed  him  a  card.  He 
glanced  at  it,  seemed  surprised,  and  then  said: 
"Show  the  lady  in."  He  swept  the  demijohn  and 
glasses  from  the  desk,  a  fact  which  Miss  Linford 
did  not  fail  to  heed,  and  turned  to  meet  a  tall, 
attractive  woman  dressed  in  black — a  woman  with 
the  grace  of  the  Old  South  in  her  walk. 

"The  Governor,  I  presume,"  said  the  lady, 
slightly  bowing. 

*'Mrs.  Fairburn,"  the  Governor  returned,  with  a 
show  of  courtesy  that  was  not  lost  upon  the  book 
agent.  "We  have  been  neighbors  for  some  time,  I 
believe."  Mrs.  Fairburn  slightly  inclined  her  head. 
"Won't  you  be  seated?" 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  "I  prefer  to  stand.  Gov- 
ernor, a  company  of  your  militia  has  been  en- 
camped upon  my  plantation  at  Gum  Springs  since 
early  in  February.  May  I  ask  why  those  soldiers 
are  there?" 

"Gum  Springs,"  echoed  the  Governor.  "Lum- 
mers,  who  is  at  Gum  Springs?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  65 

"Captain  Collins,  sir,  with  Company  H." 

"Um — yes.     What's  he  doing  there?" 

"Nothing,  sir,  at  present." 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Fairburn,  with  a 
tinge  of  irony  in  her  voice,  "but  couldn't  Captain 
Collins  do  that  just  as  well  somewhere  else  for 
a  while?" 

There  was  something  in  her  demeanor  which 
commanded  respect  and  challenged  admiration. 
The  Governor  mentally  compared  the  two  women 
before  him.  "He  shall  be  given  a  chance  to  try. 
Madam,"  he  said,  "if  you  desire  it." 

The  caller  bowed.  "Thank  you,  not  only  for 
myself,  but  also  in  behalf  of  my  servants,  my  fruits 
and  my  fowls.  Peace  has  its  terrors  as  well  as 
war." 

"I'm  sorry  if  they  have  bothered  you,"  spoke 
up  the  executive,  "but  I  don't  blame  them.  For- 
aging is  as  much  a  part  of  the  soldier's  trade  as 
fighting." 

"But  the  fighting  is  ended.  Is  the  foraging  to 
be  made  perpetual?" 


56  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

A  shadow  darkened  the  old  man's  face.  "Send 
the  soldiers  away,  Lummers,"  he  said. 

"Where,  sir?" 

"Anywhere — send  them  away." 

"A  few  nights  ago,"  continued  Mrs.  Fairburn, 
^'during  a  drunken  carousal,  they  burned  the  old 
school  house  at  Gum  Springs — a  landmark  dear  to 
every  one  in  that  neighborhood.  To  replace  it,  of 
course,  would  be  impossible;  but  cannot  the  state 
provide  a  new  building,  however  small,  so  that  the 
children  there  may  receive  instruction?" 

Miss  Linford  had  been  an  attentive  listener. 
"That's  right.  Governor,"  she  interposed.  "It  is 
clearly  the  duty  of  the  state  to  replace  that  school 
house." 

The  Governor  gave  her  a  knowing  look.  "Um, 
yes,"  he  said,  sarcastically,  "the-  more  school  houses 
the  more  books."  Then  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn.  "That  matter.  Madam,  shall  be  attended  to 
at  once.  I  think  the  state  can  find  five  thousand 
dollars  for  such  use." 

"I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  67 

"Oh,  not  at  all."  Stepping  aside  he  said  in  an 
undertone  to  Lummers,  "Give  the  contract  to 
Wilson  and  see  that  there's  an  extra  five  thousand 
in  it  for  me." 

"And  there's  another  matter,"  Mrs.  Fairburn 
continued.  "But  I'm  afraid  that  I  shall  tax  your 
patience."  She  stopped;  the  Governor  bowed  and, 
thus  encouraged,  she  proceeded:  "A  young  man 
named  Francis  has  been  sent  to  the  penitentiary 
from  Gum  Springs,  charged  with  manslaughter. 
There  seems  no  doubt  that  he  was  set  upon  by 
some  drunken  soldiers  and  acted  clearly  in  self- 
defense.  He  has  had  no  opportunity  to  employ 
counsel,  but  has  been  hurried  to  prison.  His  fam- 
ily declares  that  he  has  not  had  a  fair  trial.  Friends 
are  circulating  a  petition  for  his  pardon.  When  it 
reaches  you  may  I  ask  that  you  give  the  matter  your 
careful  attention?  I  know  that  boy,  Governor,  and 
he  is  a  fine,  manly  young  fellow." 

"I  am  already  looking  into  that  matter.  Madam," 
he  said  slowly,  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  He 
thought  of  the  report  made  by  Lummers — that  old 


00  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

man  Francis  had  scraped  together  but  twenty-two 
hundred  dollars  to  purchase  his  son's  release.  He 
was  about  to  say  something  additional  when  Jim 
entered  and  announced  the  arrival  of  Wiley  Jones. 

"Ah,  all  right,"  cried  the  Governor,  evidently 
relieved  by  the  interruption,  "Show  him  into  my 
private  room.     Ladies,  you'll  have  to  excuse  me." 

"My  mission  is  ended,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn,  "and 
I'll  not  trespass  longer  upon  your  time.  Good 
morning." 

"Good  morning.  Madam."  He  glanced  at  Miss 
Linford  and  hurried  into  his  private  office.  The 
book  agent  arose  hastily.  "Just  a  moment,  please." 
Mrs.  Fairburn,  at  the  door,  turned  about.  "I  am 
always  interested  in  those  who  are  alive  to  edu- 
cational needs,"  the  lobbyist ,  continued,  handing 
Mrs.  Fairburn  a  card.  "I  am  in  that  line  myself; 
perhaps  we  might  be  mutually  helpful  in  this  di- 
rection." The  agent  inclined  her  head  toward  the 
Governor's  office. 

Mrs.  Fairburn  straightened  up  with  dignity.  "I 
do  not  understand  you,"  she  said. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  69 

"Well,  it  occurs  to  me  that  I  might  make  it  worth 
your  while  if  you  would  push  my  scheme  a  little." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  recoiled  as  if  stung.  She  flashed 
one  look  of  indignation  at  the  book  agent  and  ex- 
tended the  card,  which  she  still  held  in  her  hand. 
Miss  Linford  made  no  attempt  to  take  it;  a  second 
later  it  fluttered  to  the  floor  and  the  woman  in 
black  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  OLD  man's  SWEAT-BOX 

Governor  Crance's  private  ofifice  was  not  large; 
in  fact,  its  dimensions  were  rather  cramped.  Legis- 
lators and  lobbyists  who  oftenest  were  summoned 
there  for  discipline  commonly  referred  to  it  as  "the 
old  man's  sweat-box."  Once  inside  that  tomb- 
like inclosure  the  visitor  usually  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  Trouble,  and  there  was  no  room  for 
shifty  maneuvering  or  evasion.  It  was  a  place  for 
rapid-fire  business  at  close  quarters. 

Wiley  Jones  had  been  there  before  and  knew 
what  to  expect.  He  was  a  political  degenerate,  a 
man  always  looking  for  the  winning  side,  a  schemer 
with  all  the  predatory  instincts  of  the  cat  and  the 
moral  courage  of  the  hyena.  He  was  gaunt, 
grizzled,  sharp-eyed  and  squeaky  of  voice,  utterly 
without  principle,  but  with  a  self-consciousness 
which  he  often  mistook  for  virtue.    Largely  through 

70 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  71 

the  Governor's  influence  he  had  become  a  quasi- 
leader  in  the  house  of  representatives  and  this,  in 
his  own  eyes,  had  greatly  increased  his  importance. 

When  the  Governor  entered,  he  got  up  with  a 
show  of  poHteness;  but  immediately  dropped  back 
upon  the  chair.  He  knew  that  the  Carpetbagger 
was  gradually  losing  power  and  that  so  high-handed 
a  career  could  not  last  long  in  America.  This  fact 
made  him  impudent  and  he  boldly  summoned  de- 
fiance to  his  aid. 

"Willetts  said  you  wanted  to  see  me,"  he 
snarled,  giving  the  chief  executive  a  sharp  look. 

"For  just  about  one  minute,"  replied  the  Gov- 
ernor, taking  the  only  other  chair  in  the  room. 
"You  are  opposed  to  that  Midland  Railway  bill,  I 
understand." 

"Well,  I— that  is—" 

"Are  you  against  it?" 

"I  can't  say  that  I  am  in  favor  of  it." 

"Why?" 

"I  don't  like  it." 

"What  are  your  reasons?" 


72  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

**WelI,  I  don't  think  it  would  be  a  good  thing 
for  the  state." 

"Don't  you?"  said  the  Governor,  calmly.    "I  do." 
"We  can't  afford  to  go  too  far  in  these  matters — 
just  at  this  time.     The  people  have  certain  rights 
which  must — " 

"Who  made  you  the  special  guardian  of  the  rights 
of  the  people?  What  do  you  know  about  the  wel- 
fare of  the  state?" 

"My  duty,  sir,  as  a  legislator,  requires  me  to — " 
"It  doesn't  require  you  to  argue  with  me  at  all. 
You  are  not  here  for  that  purpose." 

"Well,  will  you  please  tell  me  why  I  am  here?" 
"Yes — you  are  here  to  do  as  I  tell  you." 
"Isn't  that  rather — rather  peremptory,  Govern- 
or?" 

"I  hope  so.  Now,  look  here.  I  am  interested  in 
that  bill.  I  want  it  put  through;  and  it's  going 
through.  But  I  don't  propose  to  talk  about  that. 
There  is  another  matter  which  is  much  more  inter- 
esting to  you.  Some  of  the  people  down  in  Spencer 
county  are  raising  a  howl  about  the  manner  of  your 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  73 

election.  Perhaps  you  haven't  heard  of  that.  I 
beHeve  there  was  some  little  irregularity  about  it, 
wasn't  there?  If  I  remember  correctly  you  weren't 
seated  in  exactly  the  regular  order,  were  you?  I 
have  been  thinking,  in  view  of  the  protests  which 
have  been  coming  in,  that  it  might  be  as  well  to 
reopen  the  case.    What  do  you  think?" 

The  legislator  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

*'The  people,  you  know,  have  certain  rights  which 
must  be  respected,"  the  Governor  added. 

Mr.  Jones  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  fore- 
head. 

"If  they  demand  this  of  me,"  insinuated  the  Grov- 
ernor,  "what  can  I  do?" 

The  leader  of  the  house  glanced  nervously  about 
the  room  as  if  seeking  in  vain  an  avenue  of  escape. 
Then  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"You  are  trying  to  browbeat  me!"  he  shouted. 

"Nonsense,"  remarked  the  Carpetbagger,  quietly. 
"Do  you  think  I  would  waste  time  like  that?  As 
a  legislator  there  are  certain  duties  which  you  owe 
the  people;  I  understand  that,  of  course.    And  as  a 


74  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

public  official  there  are  certain  duties  which  I  owe 
them.  That's  all  there  is  of  it.  It's  very  simple. 
If  they  show  me  that  you  were  not  legally  elected, 
or  that  you  were  irregularly  seated,  I  shall  have  to 
throw  you  out  and  declare  your  seat  vacant.  What 
else  can  I  do?" 

"The  house  won't  stand  it,  sir!" 

"If  you  think  it  won't  don't  bet  your  hope  of 
salvation  on  that  proposition." 

"It  might  have  done  so  once;  but  it  won't  now. 
The  situation  has  changed.  This  high-handed  busi- 
ness will  be  tolerated  no  longer.  Washington 
knows  what  you  are  doing  and  the  Federal  govern- 
ment will — " 

The  Governor  interrupted  him  with  a  laugh.  "I 
get  news  from  Washington,  myself,  occasionally," 
he  said.  "By  the  way,"  he  added,  "I'd  like  to  ask 
you  a  question.  Have  you  got  the  idea  into  your 
head  that  you  are  an  honest  man?  Discard  that- 
fallacy.  Throw  it  away.  It  isn't  in  you  to  be 
honest.  You  can  change  the  construction  of  many 
things;  but  it  isn't  easy  to  alter  the  moral  makeup 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  75 

of  a  bad  man.  An  honest  man  may  depart  from  the 
original  plan  and  afterward  return  to  it;  but  if  the 
foundation  itself  is  rotten  you  can't  build  a  safe 
superstructure  over  it,  no  matter  how  you  change 
the  materials." 

"This  is  outrageous." 

"Maybe;  but  it's  true.  If  I  thought  you  had  an 
honest  motive  in  opposing  that  bill — or  in  opposing 
any  other  bill — I  might  hesitate  to  influence  you. 
But  you  haven't.  You  don't  know  the  meaning  of 
honesty." 

"You  are  insulting,  sir." 

"That  depends.  It's  a  pretty  hard  matter  to  insult 
a  thief,  Mr.  Jones."  He  looked  straight  at  the  law- 
maker and  smiled  to  see  him  wince.  "Sit  down," 
he  commanded.  "The  fellow  they  have  picked  out 
for  your  place  would  grace  it,  I  think.  He  is  bright, 
shrewd  and  active — quick  to  grasp  a  point.  It 
wouldn't  take  a  minute  for  him  to  see  the  great 
benefits  of  such  a  measure  as  the  Midland  bill.  And, 
above  all,  he  is  loyal  to  his  friends.  That's  a  pretty 
good  trait  in  a  legislator — honor,  you  know,  even 
among  thieves." 


76  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

He  paused  and  lighted  a  cigar.  There  was  a 
brief  period  of  silence  which  was  broken  by  Jones. 
"Governor,"  he  said,  in  a  whining  falsetto,  "I've 
never  been  disloyal — never.  But  we're  all  of  us 
walking  over  a  volcano  here  and  we  can't  be  too 
careful.  The  people  are  roused.  They  are  rallying 
around  Reynolds  and  unless  something  is  done  to 
stem  the  tide  that  is  setting  in  against  us,  they'll 
swamp  us  at  the  polls." 

"My  friend,"  drily  remarked  the  Governor,  as  he 
blew  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  toward  the  ceiling, 
*'it  takes  two  things  to  make  a  vote  effective.  First, 
it  must  be  cast.  Second,  it  must  be  counted.  I'm 
not  afraid  of  a  high  tide." 

He  arose  and  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the 
room  leaving  the  lawmaker  to  his  own  reflections. 

"As  the  leader  of  the  house,"  began  the  latter,  "I 
must — " 

The  Governor  turned  on  his  heel.  "As  the  leader 
of  the  house,"  he  interrupted,  "you  must  be  pretty 
careful  to  know  just  what  you  are  leading.  Look 
behind  you  once  in  a  while.  If  you  don't  some- 
body may  cut  the  string  and  let  you  walk  on  alone." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  77 

The  Carpetbagger  resumed  his  walk.  "DeHght- 
ful  weather  we're  having,  isn't  it?"  he  drawled,  with 
significant  emphasis.  "I  suppose  it  makes  you  feel 
like  getting  out  of  the  house." 

Mr.  Jones  arose.  "No,"  he  said,  extending  his 
bony  hand;  "I  never  have  spring  fever." 

The  Governor  put  his  hands  behind  him. 

"See  Willetts,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WHO  DOES  THE  COUNTING? 

"It  looks  as  if  our  friend,  the  enemy,  were  going 
to  have  a  pretty  big  convention,  doesn't  it?"  re- 
marked Governor  Crance,  one  morning,  a  couple  of 
weeks  later,  his  question  having  in  it  more  of  a  con- 
clusion than  an  interrogation. 

*'Yes,  sir,"  responded  Lummers,  as  he  placed  a 
pile  of  letters  before  the  chief  executive.  "The 
Democrats  have  been  pouring  into  town  ever  since 
last  niglit  and  to-day  they  size  up  more  like  a  mob 
than  anything  else." 

"Um — Where's  Willetts?" 

"I  haven't  seen  him  this  morning,  sir." 

"Look  him  up.  Find  him.  Tell  him  to  keep  in 
touch  with  those  fellows  to-day  and  see  what's 
going  on." 

"Yes,  sir."  Lummers  seized  his  hat  and  started 
for  the  door. 

78 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  79 

"Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him  if  anything  turns  up," 
continued  the  Governor.    "Have  him  report  to  me." 

During  the  afternoon,  the  Carpetbagger  remained 
in  the  seclusion  of  his  office,  apparently  unmoved 
by  the  political  excitement  outside  which  kept  the 
streets  congested.  From  time  to  time  he  heard  the 
sounds  of  fife  and  drum  and  the  cheering  of  the 
multitudes.  Once,  a  band  of  marchers,  as  if  to  bid 
open  defiance  to  the  Carpetbag  regime,  halted  be- 
neath his  window  and  gave  three  cheers  for  "hon- 
esty and  home  rule." 

He  smiled.  "Not  just  yet,"  he  soliloquized.  "But 
I  don't  blame  'em.  If  I  lived  down  here  I'd  be  out 
there,  too.  Chicago's  always  been  good  enough 
for  me." 

The  school-book  lobbyist  called;  but  she  found 
scant  courtesy.  "You're  in  too  much  of  a  hurry," 
he  said.  "I  understand  they  are  making  a  new 
Governor  here  in  town  to-day.  Maybe  you'll  have 
to  do  business  with  him.    Better  wait  and  see." 

Nellie  and  Roy  came  romping  in — a  ray  of  sun- 
shine at  the  close  of  a  murky  day.    "Has  my  com- 


80  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

mission  got  here  yet?"  inquired  the  youngster,  his 
face  glowing  with  enthusiasm. 

"Eh?  How's  that?"  asked  the  Governor.  "Oh— 
from  Washington.     I  remember.     No;  not  quite." 

A  moment  later,  Willetts,  unannounced,  bolted 
into  the  room.  His  face,  usually  pale  and  inex- 
pressive, was  flushed  with  excitement.  Before  he 
could  say  a  word  the  old  man  stopped  him  with  a 
significant  gesture. 

"Miss  Linford,"  he  said,  "we'll  have  to  take  up 
your  matter  some  other  time.  Good  afternoon. 
Captain  Fairburn,  will  you  cover  the  retreat  and  see 
that  my  daughter  reaches  home  in  safety." 

Roy  saluted  awkwardly  and  offered  his  arm  to 
Nellie.  As  their  footsteps  died  away  the  Carpet- 
bagger turned  to  Willetts.  "Sit  down,"  he  com- 
manded. 

"Governor,  this  thing  means  mischief,"  began 
the  ex-gambler.  "It's  all  very  well  for  us  to  ignore 
the  convention  and  call  them  kickers  and  sore- 
heads, and  ridicule  their  claims  of  reform;  but  I 
tell  you  that  convention  to-day  has  been  red-hot 
from  the  start,  and  the  people  are  behind  it." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  81 

"That's  all  right,"  repHed  the  Governor,  coolly. 
"Who's  in  front  of  it?" 

"Reynolds — and  if  you  don't  look  out  he'll  run 
avv-ay  with  us.  I  know  these  people — I've  lived 
here." 

"Well,  I  guess  Reynolds  is  the  best  they  could 
do." 

"He's  the  most  popular  man  in  the  state.  He 
can  poll  more  votes  than  any  man  in  Mississippi. 
Don't  mistake  that." 

Major  Reynolds  had  not  sought  the  nomination, 
the  honor  having  been  forced  upon  him,  and  now 
the  news  was  spreading  throughout  the  city.  He 
was  the  son  of  old  John  Reynolds,  a  veteran  of  the 
Mexican  war,  an  old  aristocrat  who  had  been  in 
Congress  and  who  was  still  one  of  the  largest  land- 
owners in  the  state.  The  Major  had  been  a  gallant 
soldier  in  the  Confederate  army.  His  kindness  and 
courtesy,  his  generosity  and  friendliness  made  him 
a  favorite  among  the  common  people.  In  a  piece  of 
limping  verse  a  sentimentalist  had  called  him  the 
"flower  of  chivalry."    While  Willetts  and  the  Gov- 


82  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

ernor  were  still  discussing  the  situation,  they  heard 
the  Major's  voice  in  the  ante-room.  "Here!"  he 
commanded,  speaking  to  Jim,  "take  my  card  to  the 
Governor." 

"Reynolds!"  cried  Willetts,  springing  to  his  feet. 
"Look  out  now.    Take  care  of  yourself." 

The  Governor  lighted  a  cigar.  "He's  only  one 
man,"  he  said.  Jim  handed  him  a  card.  "Show 
him  in." 

"Only  one  man,"  said  Willetts,  with  his  eye  on 
the  door,  "but  he's  a  hair-trigger  man.  No  monkey- 
business,  now.     He  won't  stand  it." 

The  Major  stepped  into  the  room,  halted  and 
bowed  stiffly.    "Governor  Crance?" 

"How  are  you.  Major?"  was  the  Governor's 
hearty  greeting.  "Sit  down.  How's  everything, 
out  your  way?" 

The  Major  started  at  this  familiarity.  "Governor 
Crance,  my  party  has  honored  me  with  a  nomina- 
tion for  Governor,  and  pursuing  a  custom  time- 
honored  among  our  people,  I  have  called,  sir,  to 
announce  my  candidacy  in  opposition  to  yourself." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.    Sit  down." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  83 

"And  to  demand,  sir,"  the  Major  continued,  "that 
you  meet  me  on  the  stump,  where  you  shall  have  full 
opportunity  to  defend  yourself  against  the  charges 
with  which  I  shall  confront  you." 

''Oh,  I  don't  think  that  will  be  necessary  at  all," 
the  Governor  drawled.  "J^^t  turn  the  cat  loose 
whenever  you  get  ready." 

The  Major  began  to  swell  with  indignation.  "It 
may  please  you,  sir,  to  indulge  in  vulgar  flippancy 
at  a  time  like  this,  but  it  does  not  meet  the  issue." 

"Meeting  an  issue  is  all  right.  Major;  but  what's 
the  use  in  breaking  your  neck  trying  to  overtake 
one?" 

"We  charge  you,  sir,  with  most  damnable  corrup- 
tion in  office.  You  have  plundered  and  pillaged  this 
stricken  state,  intrusted  to  your  keeping.  You  have 
oppressed  our  people.  You  have  ruled  without 
justice  and  without  mercy.  And  against  this  rec- 
ord, sir,  you  must  defend  yourself." 

The  Governor  smiled.  ''If  I'm  that  sort  of  a 
fellow,  why  should  you  want  to  meet  me  anywhere? 
Even  on  the  stump?" 


84  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"But  I  will  meet  you,  sir,  to  wrest  your  stifling 
clutch  from  the  throat  of  this  prostrate  common- 
wealth!" 

"Good!"  exclaimed  the  Governor.  "You'd  have 
made  a  great  auctioneer.  It  wouldn't  be  safe, 
though,  for  me  to  meet  you  on  the  stump — I  can 
see  that.  We  might  get  excited  and  I  probably 
would  forget  myself  and  auction  you  off.  Why, 
I'd  trot  you  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  people  a 
few  times  and  knock  you  down  to  the  highest 
bidder.    Have  a  cigar?" 

The  Major,  livid  with  anger,  snatched  the  prof- 
fered cigar,  broke  it  in  two  and  throwing  it  upon 
the  floor,  trampled  upon  the  pieces.  Then,  brush- 
ing his  hands  together,  he  said  with  evident  effort: 

"Sir,  I  shall  not  be  diverted  from  my  purpose  by 
any  personal  indignity  which  you  may  see  fit  to 
inflict  upon  me.  This  issue  is  one  which  transcends 
personal  considerations,  and  I  do  not  forget  that  a 
sacred  trust  has  been  placed  in  my  stewardship. 
But,  sir,  I  warn  you  that  the  day  of  settlement  is 
at  hand.    You  may  not  meet  me  on  the  stump;  but 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  85 

you  must  face  the  outraged  people  of  this  sovereign 
commonwealth  at  the  polls.  And  the  people  do 
the  voting!" 

The  Governor  had  seated  himself  on  a  corner  of 
his  desk.     He  looked  up  with  a  smile. 

"Do  they?"  he  asked,  innocently.  "Who  does 
the  counting?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  GOVERNOR   WIPES   OUT  A   BLOT 

Throughout  the  entire  state  there  was  a  boom- 
ing as  of  cannon.  When  Willetts  first  heard  the 
uproar  in  the  Httle  capital  city  he  rushed  to  the 
pubHc  square,  half  expecting  to  find  it  besieged  by 
the  enemy  with  field  pieces.  But,  when  he  learned 
that  the  people  were  merely  firing  anvils  in  honor 
of  the  Major's  nomination  and  knew  that  all  the 
commotion  was  caused  by  the  blacksmith's  instru- 
ment of  toil,  he  skulked  back  to  his  quiet  scheming 
with  the  legislators.  He  argued,  and  with  good 
reason,  too,  that  there  was  no  cause  for  alarm. 
The  Governor's  last  words  to  Major  Reynolds  had 
settled  the  election;  it  could  make  no  difference  how 
strong  a  vote  the  Democrats  might  poll. 

Every  night  there  were  speeches  in  the  streets, 
in  halls  and  in  vacant  warehouses.  The  ante-bel- 
lum orator  had  crept  forth  from  his  seclusion  and 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  81 

now  broke  his  political  silence  to  talk  again  of  the 
"constitution"  and  the  ''rights  of  free-born  Ameri- 
can citizens."  Old  men,  who  long  ago  had  given 
up  all  hope,  acknowledged  that  the  country  might 
yet  be  saved.  Ministers  preached  politics  from  the 
pulpit.  In  their  arguments  before  juries  the  lawyers 
spoke  of  "Reynolds  and  freedom."  A  candidate  for 
the  legislature  went  about  wearing  a  red  ribbon 
with  the  words — "Who  does  the  Counting?" — 
stamped  upon  it. 

The  Carpetbaggers  went  through  the  pretense  of 
a  vigorous  campaign,  though  they  knew  that  it  was 
unnecessary,  since  the  result  lay  with  the  returning 
board,  appointed  by  the  Governor.  Every  member 
of  the  legislature  was  a  candidate  for  re-election. 
Few  of  them  had  ever  visited  the  communities 
which  they  nominally  represented.  Wiley  Jones 
had  come  back  into  the  fold.  It  was  known  that 
the  railway  land-grant  bill  would  pass  at  the  proper 
time,  upon  the  completion  of  financial  arrangements 
in  the  East. 

One  day,  while  the  Governor  sat  alone,  in  his 


88  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

private  office,  there  came  a  bird-like  tapping  upon 
the  door.  He  arose  with  a  frown,  but  his  face 
brightened  when  he  opened  the  door.  NelHe  stood 
there,  as  fresh  as  the  dew  on  the  magnoHa  bloom. 

"Why!    Come  in,  little  one,"  he  said;  "come  in." 

"Are  you  glad  to  see  me?" 

"I'm  always  glad  to  see  you.  Sit  down  here. 
What  have  you  been  doing  to-day?  Making 
speeches  for  me?" 

He  looked  at  her  tenderly — a  pure  bud  in  a 
thicket  of  briars,  this  beautiful  image  of  a  face 
gone  from  the  world,  the  living  replica  of  a  country 
girl  whom  he  had  wooed  and  won  long  years  ago 
among  the  flowers  of  the  prairie. 

"Yes,  sir,  I'm  always  making  speeches  for  you." 

"Um,  I  guess  you  are  the  strongest  speech  that 
could  be  made." 

She  was  silent  for  a  time  and  her  face  was 
thoughtful.  So  serious  a  look  was  new  for  her  and 
the  Governor  asked  if  anything  had  gone  wrong. 
She  shook  her  head  in  denial.  The  Governor  at- 
tempted to  joke  with  her.  She  got  up  and  put  her 
arms  about  his  neck. 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  89 

"Why  do  they  say  such  awful  things  about  you?" 
she  asked,  with  an  unwonted  quiver  in  her  voice. 

"Do — do  they?"    His  face  darkened. 

"Yes,  even  the  girls.  They  say — they  say  yon 
are  a  thief.  And  how  can  they  do  that  when  you  are 
so  good  and  kind  to  everybody?  You  couldn't  do 
anything  wrong,  could  you?"  Her  arms  were  tight 
about  his  neck  and  her  face  was  warm  and  soft 
against  his  cheek,  a  cheek  beaten  by  so  many 
stornis.    "Could  you?" 

He  made  an  inarticulate  sound.  He  tried  to 
laugh,  but  his  voice  degenerated  into  a  gasp.  He 
strove  to  harden  his  eye,  but  it  was  soft.  "You 
mustn't  pay  any  attention  to  what  you  hear,  little 
one,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  but  I  can't  help  it!  If  you  don't  pay  any 
attention  to  what  you  hear,  what  can  you  pay  any 
attention  to?  It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  for  a  little 
minute,  but  it's — all  the  time.  Mrs.  Fairburn 
said—" 

"Eh?    What  about  her?" 

"She's  awfully  good  to  me,  and  she — " 

"What  did  she  say?" 


90  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"I  don't  understand  her  at  all.  I  was  over  there 
this  morning,  and  she  said  I  was  'one  of  the  sweet- 
est little  things  she  ever  saw.'  Then  she  put  her 
arms  around  me  and  said,  'What  a  pity!  What  a 
pity!'    What  did  she  mean?" 

The  Governor  gently  took  her  arms  from  about 
his  neck — they  were  suffocating  him.  He  walked 
m.echanically  about  the  room,  halting  at  the  window 
to  look  out  upon  the  flowers. 

"What  did  she  mean?"  the  girl  asked  again. 

The  old  soldier  turned  about,  master  of  himself. 
There  was  infinite  tenderness  in  his  heart,  but  a  lie 
was  on  his  lips.  "It  was  her  mother  instinct," — he 
said — "A  pity,  that  you  were  motherless." 

Jim  came  in  with  a  card.  It  bore  the  name  "Rev, 
Jacob  Williams."  The  Governor  glanced  at  it  and 
hesitated.  "Well,"  he  finally  said,  "let  him  come 
in." 

An  old  man  entered  the  room.  One  glance  of  the 
Governor's    shrewd    eye    established    his    honesty. 

"Sit  down,  Mr.  Williams.  What  can  I  do  for 
you?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  91 

"You  can  avenge  a  great  wrong,"  the  old  man 
replied, 

"What  is  it?" 

"It  involves  the  telling  of  a  brief  story,  sir.  But 
it  shall  be  very  brief.  Not  far  from  here  there  is 
a  gambling  house,  and — " 

"They  are  all  over  town,"  the  Governor  inter- 
rupted. 

"I  know  it,  sir;  but  it  is  of  this  especial  one  at 
103  Mason  Street,  that  I  am  here  to  speak.  Into 
this  house,  for  a  long  time,  there  has  gone  almost 
daily  an  old  man  to  play  what  they  call  'roulette.' 
He  has  always  lost.  Nearly  every  time  he  has 
stayed  till  a  little  boj-  came  to  lead  him  away. 
It  was  a  pitiful  sight.  It  was  a  joke  among 
the  wretches,  who  used  to  say:  'He'll  stay  till 
his  policeman  comes.'  Yesterday  he  began  to 
win.  He  had  little  money  at  the  start,  but 
soon  ran  the  amount  up  to  seventy-five  dol- 
lars. Then,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  he 
quit  and  demanded  the  cash  he  had  won.  They 
gave  it  to  him,  of  course,  but  were  loth  to  see  him 


92  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

leave.  'Give  us  a  game,'  they  insisted.  He  turned 
upon  them.  'Wolves!'  he  said,  'you  have  seen  that 
little  fellow  come  day  after  day  and  lead  me  away 
from  here.  This  money' — and  he  shook  it  at  them 
— 'this  money  is  to  pay  for  his  funeral.'  He  turned 
away  and  the  brutes  jeered  him."  The  clergyman 
paused.  'T  have  come,  sir,"  he  added,  softly,  "to 
ask  that  this  hell  may  be  closed." 

Now  the  Governor's  eye  was  hard.  He  looked 
at  the  tears  on  his  daughter's  cheek.  He  touched 
a  bell.  "Jim,"  he  said,  "if  Mr.  Willetts  is  anywhere 
about,  tell  him  to  come  here." 

"He's  out  dar  now,  sah." 

The  Governor  said  nothing,  walking  up  and  down 
the  room  till  Willetts  entered.  Then  he  spoke  in  a 
voice  strangely  low  for  him:  "Go  to  the  chief  of 
police,"  he  said,  "and  tell  him  to  close  up  103 
Mason  Street.  Not  for  a  day,  but  for  all  time — wipe 
it  out.  Tell  him  to  give  the  operators  of  the  place 
two  hours  to  get  out  of  town.  You  don't  need  an 
order.    Go." 

"But,  Governor!"  cried  Willetts,  "ain't  you  a  little 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  93 

too  fast  in  this  matter?  Just  let  me  see  you  a 
moment."  He  drew  the  Governor  aside.  "That 
house,"  he  said,  confidentially,  "is  contributing 
more  to  our  campaign  fund  than  any  institution  in 
the  city.  We  can't  afiford  to  close  it.  These  men 
are  perfectly  'square.'  What's  the  charge  against 
them?" 

The  Carpetbagger  looked  at  his  daughter. 

"There  isn't  any,"  he  said, 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   governor's   SUNDAY 

All  night  a  gentle  rain  had  fallen;  but  the  clouds 
floated  away  with  the  coming  of  dawn  and  the  sun 
shone  bright  upon  an  ideal  Sunday  morning. 
Roses  breathed  their  perfumed  secrets  upon  the 
soft  air;  the  local  poet  dreamed,  and  the  music  of 
the  bells  was  sweet.  The  pathways  leading  to  the 
churches  were  ablaze  with  ribbons,  for  the  dammed- 
up  finery,  held  back  by  the  war,  had  broken  loose 
and  flooded  society. 

Governor  Crance  sat  upon  the  broad  veranda 
enjoying  a  cigar,  while  a  steady  stream  of  church- 
goers flowed  past  him.  No  one  noticed  him. 
Every  eye  was  averted,  "The  forbidden  earth," 
he  mused,  as  he  glanced  about  the  spacious 
grounds,  and  his  memory  brought  back  the  prosy 
sermons  of  long  ago  in  the  little  white  church  of 
an  Illinois  hamlet. 

94 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  95 

"Aren't  you  going  to  church?"  chimed  a  girlish 
treble,  as  NelHe  came  bounding  out  of  the  house. 

"To  church?"  echoed  the  Carpetbagger,  with  a 
peculiar  intonation  in  his  voice.    "No." 

"Why  not?" 

"I — I — never  go  to  church  down  here." 

"What!    Never  go  to  church  at  all?" 

The  Governor  shook  his  head.  "The  war  taught 
both  sides  how  to  hate,"  he  said.  "Time  alone  can 
teach  forgiveness." 

"Well,  the  war  ended  two  years  ago,"  she  per- 
sisted. 

"The  war  did — the  warfare  didn't.  We've  quit 
shooting  each  other,  it's  true,  but  in  a  thousand 
ways  the  fighting  is  still  going  on,  hotter  than 
ever." 

"But  surely  not  on  Sunday,  and  in  the  church." 

"Everywhere — all  the  time.  If  I  were  to  attend 
a  church  service  to-day,"  he  continued,  "I  should 
not  hear  the  Gospel  preached ;  I  should  merely  hear 
myself  abused.    So  I  don't  go." 

Nellie's  blue  eyes  filled  with  tears.     For  a  few 


96  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

minutes  she  stood  motionless ;  then  she  slowly  went 
back  into  the  house.    "Oh,  I'm  so  sorry!"  she  said. 

There  was  a  queer  lump  in  the  Governor's  throat. 
He  sprang  up  as  if  to  follow  his  daughter,  stopped 
at  the  door,  and  after  a  little  indecision,  turned 
squarely  about  and  walked  down  into  the  garden. 

To  and  fro  among  the  magnolias  he  paced,  how 
long  he  did  not  know.  He  heard  voices  and  the 
laughter  of  children  and  knew  that  the  people  were 
returning  from  church ;  but  this  did  not  interrupt  his 
meditation.  The  greedy  sun,  now  high  in  the 
heavens,  had  stolen  every  dewy  jewel  from  leaf  and 
flower  and  the  grass  was  dry.  He  threw  himself 
down  at  full  length,  closed  his  eyes  and  tried  to  shut 
out  the  world.  He  v/as  aroused  by  a  fluttering 
among  the  green  leaves;  a  bird  was  building  her 
nest  in  the  branches  above  him  and  he  watched 
her  curiously.  "She  never  goes  wrong,"  he  ex- 
claimed, half  aloud,  "and  yet  she  has  only  instinct 
to  guide  her.    Mistakes  are  man's  monopoly," 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  HIGH-HEADED  WOMAN 

Walking  slowly  back  to  the  house,  Governor 
Crance  glanced  toward  the  adjoining  garden  of  Mrs. 
Fairburn  and  was  surprised  to  see  his  fair  neigh- 
bor engaged  in  gathering  an  armful  of  roses.  He 
stopped.  Unconsciously  he  raised  his  hat  and  did 
not  replace  it.  He  wondered  if  she  would  look  at 
him ;  but  she  did  not.  Presently  he  grew  bolder  and 
cleared  his  throat  to  speak ;  but  he  found  no  oppor- 
tunity to  do  so.  Uncovered  he  stood  there  and 
looked  at  her,  as  one  might  gaze  upon  a  rare  paint- 
ing by  an  old  master.  How  queenly  she  looked 
amid  the  flowers!  For  many  minutes  he  watcKed 
her  in  silence;  then  he  saw  her  turn  and  saunter 
back  toward  the  stone  house  among  the  trees.  As 
she  reached  the  veranda  she  threw  down  the  roses 
and,  as  if  urged  by  a  sudden  impulse,  turned  about 
deliberately  and  looked  full  upon  him.    He  made 

97 


98  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

no  sign,  but  a  strange  trembling  seized  him  as  he 
saw  her  again  walking  toward  him. 

"Governor,"  she  said,  coming  close  to  the  divid- 
ing wall,  "I  want  to  thank  you  for  sending  your 
soldiers  away  from  my  plantation  at  Gum  Springs." 

"You  needn't,"  he  replied,  with  an  effort  to  ap- 
pear unconcerned.  "I  had  to  keep  them  some- 
where, it  didn't  matter  much  where.  I'm  glad  to 
have  been  of  service  to  you." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  bowed.  "Besides,"  he  hastily 
added,  as  he  saw  her  turn  to  leave,  "1  promised 
you  I  would." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  stopped.  "I  am  glad  you  have 
redeemed  one  promise,"  she  said,  with  an  emphasis 
upon  the  word  "one",  which  the  Carpetbagger  did 
not  fail  to  notice. 

"Why  'one'?"  he  asked. 

"You  promised  me  you  would  look  into  the  case 
of  that  Francis  boy."  Mrs.  Fairburn  replied,  quietly. 
"Have  you  done  so?" 

The  Governor  winced.  "I'm  going  to,"  he  said, 
earnestly.    "I  give  you  my  word — I  will." 

"Thank  you." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  99 

"But  you  don't  believe  me,  do  you?" 

"1  shall  be  pleased  to  give  you  full  credit  for 
every  creditable  thing  you  do." 

"Thank  you,"  exclaimed  the  Carpetbagger,  iron- 
ically, "but  I  am  not  certain  that  I  ever  do  any- 
thing of  that  sort." 

"You  might." 

"What  good  would  it  do?" 

"It  would  do  you  good.  No  kindly  act  is  ever 
lost,  no  matter  whether  the  world  knows  it  or  not." 

"That's  what  they  used  to  say  to  me  in  Sunday 
school  a  good  many  years  ago." 

"You  haven't  heard  it  there  lately,  have  you?" 

"No.  Why  should  I  go  to  church?  To  hear 
myself  abused?    They  all  do  it." 

"Not  all.  I  heard  a  fine  sermon  this  morning  in 
which  you  figured  as  a  central  character,  and  you 
were  not  abused,  either." 

"Indeed?  Then  the  millennium  must  be  at  hand. 
Who  did  it?" 

"Dr.  WilHams.    He  told  us  the  result  of  his  inter- 


100  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

cession  v/ith  you  to  close  a  certain  gambling  house 
that  had  ruined  his  brother's  home." 

"His  brotherJJ' 

"Yes.    Didn't  you  know?" 

"No;  but  it  would  have  made  no  difference. 
What  was  the  text?" 

"  'Can  there  any  good  thing  come  out  of  Naza- 
reth'?" 

"Um!    What  do  you  think  about  that  question?" 

"It  was  answered  eighteen  hundred  years  ago." 

Pier  voice  was  low  and  as  sweet  as  the  music  of 
a  mountain  brook.  The  Governor  was  deeply 
moved  and  his  face  betrayed  the  emotion  he  felt. 
Mrs.  Fairburn  was  quick  to  see  the  effect  of  her 
words  and  deemed  it  a  good  time  to  drive  home 
another  truth. 

"I  suppose  you  will  have  work  now  for  all  your 
soldiers,"  she  said.    "The  election  is  almost  here." 

"Why  do  you  think  that?"  asked  the  Governor, 
abruptly.  She  took  from  her  hair  a  bright  red  rib- 
bon and  held  it  up.  "Can  you  read  this?"  she 
asked. 

"Not  from  this  distance,"  he  replied.    "But  I  can 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  101 

guess  what  there  is  on  it.  'Who  does  the  count- 
ing?' " 

"They  say  you  intend  to  surround  every  voting 
place  with  a  corporal's  guard." 

"Do  they?    How  do  they  know?" 

"You  don't  deny  it.  Governor,  would  not  such 
a  thing  be  a  monstrous  outrage  upon  our  people?' 

"The  ballot  boxes  must  be  protected  against 
rioting  and  disorder." 

"If  the  result  is  already  known,  why  hold  any 
election  at  all?  If  you  decide  the  election,  why 
should  anyone  else  take  the  trouble  to  vote?  Should 
not  the  majority  rule?" 

There  was  an  earnestness  in  her  voice  that  the 
Carpetbagger  did  not  like.  He  laughed,  uneasil}'. 
"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  he  said,  with  a 
forced  attempt  at  pleasantry.  "If  the  majority 
always  ruled,  the  mosquitoes  would  govern  New 
Jersey." 

In  spite  of  her  seriousness  the  widow  laughed, 
and  the  Governor,  seeing  that  her  reserve  had  been 
broken,  followed  up  his  advantage.    The  spirit  of 


102  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

the  peaceful,  restful  sabbath  day,  he  remarked, 
could  not  have  been  better  exemplified  than  by  a 
negro  whom  he  had  seen  down  the  street,  lying  on 
a  box,  his  face  to  the  sun,  his  eyes  closed,  and  an 
indolent  tune  oozing  from  his  lips.  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn  laughed  at  his  description  of  the  fellow — the 
conceit  of  an  indolent  tune  oozing  from  the  negro's 
lips  was  odd. 

"You  seem  to  like  flowers,"  he  added,  brusquely. 

"I  am  very  fond  of  them,"  answered  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn.    "Aren't  you?" 

"They  are  about  the  only  things  that  are  left  me 
now  to  love,"  he  said,  "except  Nellie — God  bless 
her — and  she's  a  flower." 

"She's  a  charming  girl,"  remarked  the  widow, 
waimly.  "You  ought  to  be  proud  of  her.  I've 
been  gathering  a  few  roses  to  decorate  the  house  a 
little.    To-morrow  is  Roy's  birthday." 

"He's  a  fine  boy,"  said  the  Governor.  "You 
ought  to  be  proud  of  him." 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  SIGH  AND  A  DRINK 

A  woman  was  coming  up  the  street,  a  woman 
gay  with  ribbons  and  a  gaudy  parasol.  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn  was  first  to  notice  the  newcomer's  approach 
and  made  hasty  preparations  to  retire  from  sight. 
To  be  seen  talking  with  the  arch  enemy  of  the 
state  would  have  been  to  compromise  herself  in  the 
eyes  of  the  community  and  she  took  instant  flight. 
The  Governor  watched  her,  hurrying  along  the 
path  leading  to  her  house,  and  wondered  if  she 
would  look  back;  but  she  did  not  and  he  turned 
away  to  his  own  garden  where  Nellie  and  Roy 
were  laughing  among  the  trees.  The  "soldier"  was 
in  a  hammock  and  the  girl  was  trying  to  shake  him 
out  The  Carpetbagger  started  toward  them,  but 
just  then  some  one  called  his  name.  A  woman 
stood  at  the  front  gate,  and  he  hastened  toward 
her;  but  there  soon  came  a  halting  catch  in  his  walk 

103 


104  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

for  he  recognized  Lucy  Linford,  the  school-book 
lobbyist.  She  had  called  to  see  him  at  the  state- 
house  several  times  since  her  first  visit.  Once  in  a 
laughing  way  he  had  referred  to  her  as  a  "delight- 
ful temptation,"  and  she  had  tried  to  blush,  but 
failed.  She  was  not  of  the  sort  that  blushes  success- 
fully. But  she  was  attractive  and,  as  Willetts  said, 
"for  dash  could  give  any  of  them  cards  and  spades." 

*'I  was  just  passing,  Goyernor,  and  happened  to 
see  you  in  the  yard." 

"Yes.    Won't  you — won't  you  come  in?" 

"For  a  little  minute,  thank  you.  The  sun  is  get- 
ting warm.    Let  us  sit  on  the  veranda." 

She  sat  in  a  rocking  chair  and  the  Governor 
walked  up  and  down,  with  an  occasional  glance  over 
toward  the  stone  house.  Miss  Linford  was  an  illu- 
mination of  smiles  and  bubbled  with  the  music  of 
laughter.  He  was  half  afraid  of  her,  though  he 
found  a  sort  of  tingling  pleasure  in  his  fear;  but 
whenever  he  looked  over  toward  the  widow's  house 
there  came  a  graceful  picture  in  his  mind.  Other 
women  might  be  more  beautiful,  though  he  was 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  105 

prepared  to  doubt  it,  but  none  could  be  so  calm 
and  peace-inspiring. 

"Governor,  have  you — pardon  me  for  mentioning 
it  now — but  have  you  thought  any  further  of  our 
school-book  bill?  I  am  so  anxious  to  have  some- 
thing done." 

"Well,  it  hasn't  been  keeping  me  awake  at  night," 
he  replied,  turning  and  walking  toward  her,  only 
to  pass  and  turn  again. 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  want  it  to  do  that — like  a  bad 
conscience.  You  must  remember,  however,  that 
you  gave  me  a  good  deal  of  encouragement  the  last 
time  I  had  a  talk  with  you." 

The  Governor  was  walking  toward  her  again. 
"I  always  encourage  every  woman  that  talks  with 
me,"  he  said. 

"Really?" 

He  saw  her  smiles  and  heard  her  musical  laughter 
as  he  halted  in  front  of  her.  He  felt  that  she  was 
"playing  him" — he  could  not  help  but  know  it,  but 
he  liked  it,  as  most  men  do.  Some  men,  getting 
along  in  life,  are  never  so  happy  as  when  a  woman 


106  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

is  making-  a  fool  of  them.  And  history  proves  that 
a  statesman  is  as  easy  to  fool  as  a  minor.  This 
woman  had  many  a  grace  which  she  threw  off  with 
her  fan.  She  had  a  way  of  spreading  it  before  her 
face  and  peeping  over  it.  Willetts  was  right.  She 
could  "give  the  most  of  them  cards  and  spades." 

"I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Parker  the  other 
day,"  she  said;  "and  he  spoke  glowingly  of  you." 

"Did,  eh?  Well,  Steve  can  put  it  on  when  he 
wants  to.  He  was  a  plasterer,  I  believe,  before  he 
began  to  deal  in  damaged  literature." 

"He  was  very  much  in  hopes  that  we  might  get 
our  bill  through.  It  would  mean  so  much  to  us 
all." 

"Um — yes." 

"And  in  my  answer  to  his  letter  I  should  like  so 
much  to  send  him  encouraging  news."  She  peeped 
at  him  over  her  fan,  her  dark  eyes  full  of  the  light 
of  admiration  for  the  man  standing  before  her.  She 
wore  loose  sleeves  and  he  looked  at  her  shapely  arm, 
adroitly  exposed  for  inspection.  "What  shall  I  tell 
him,  Governor?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  107 

"Who,  old  Steve?"  The  Governor  was  fencing 
with  himself  to  gain  time.  "Why,  er — tell  him  I'm 
still  his  friend." 

"Is  that  all?" 

"Isn't  that  enough?" 

"I  should  like  to  tell  him  that  our  measure  will 
surely  carry.    May  I  tell  him  that?" 

"Yes — you  may,  but  you'd  better  not.  We'll  have 
to  feel  the  pulse  of  the  House.  The  rascals  aren't  as 
— as  tractable  as  they  might  be,  nowadays." 

"Mr.  Wiley  Jones  will  not  oppose  it.  He's  one 
of  the  most  influential  members  and  he's  devoted  to 
you." 

"Um,  yes,  very  devoted.  Devotion  is  the  heavi- 
est part  of  Brother  W^iley's  character." 

"He's  very  friendly,  and  he  seems  to  be  so  con- 
scientious.   Don't  you  think  so?" 

The  Governor  laughed.  Then  he  resumed  his 
walk  up  and  down  the  veranda.  Presently  he  halted 
and  stood  looking  over  into  the  widow's  yard,  ab- 
stractedly. The  woman  in  the  rocking-chair  knew 
what  that  meant  just  as  well  as  if  he  had  told  her. 


108  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

She  bubbled  with  occasional  merriment,  just  the 
same,  and  when  he  turned  was  bright  with  a  smile. 
But  how  she  hated  the  Fairburn  widow!  She  had 
no  reason  to  believe  that  the  widow  was  opposed  to 
her  bill,  except  the  intuition  that  flames  out  of  a 
woman's  instinct,  which,  after  all,  may  be  the 
strongest  of  reasons. 

"Governor,"  said  Miss  Linford,  "I'll  not  detain 
you  any  longer." 

"Oh,  you  are  not  detaining  me.  I'm  at — at 
home,  you  know." 

They  heard  Nellie  and  Roy  laughing.  Miss  Lin- 
ford got  up  to  go  but  stayed  to  remark  that  she 
had  never  seen  a  more  charming  girl  than  the  Gov- 
ernor's daughter.  She  was  so  fresh,  so  full  of  inno- 
cent life.  And  she  was  as  unconscious  of  her 
beauty  as  an  oil  painting.  Her  mother  must  have 
been  a  handsome  woman.  She  had  her  father's 
eyes  and  her  mother's  yellow  hair,  evidently.  The 
Governor  hemmed,  hawed  and  winked  under  this 
flattery,  and,  knowing  that  it  was  flattery,  was 
Adam  enough  to  like  it.    She  finally  swung  herself 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  109 

out  of  the  gate,  her  bright  colors  leaving  a  rainbow 
glow  in  the  air  and  the  Carpetbagger,  heaving  a 
sigh  of  relief,  went  into  the  house  and  took  a  drink. 
Down  the  street.  Old  Steve's  agent  met  Willetts,  ? 
sauntering  along  with  a  small  yellow  cane.     He 
raised  his  hat,  assured  her  of  the  pleasant  surprise 
afforded  him  and  turned  to  walk  with  her. 
"I've  just  left  the  Governor,"  she  said. 
Willctts  smiled,    "I  suppose  he  promised  to  put 
your  bill  through,''  he  remarked. 

*'No,  but  I  think  he  will  do  it,  just  the  same." 
"He  won't,"  said  Willetts,  laconically.     "Your 
school-book  bill  is  laid  out.     You're  on  a  dead 
card  and  you  may  as  well  throw  up  the  sponge.    I 
know  what  I  am  talking  about." 

"Then  what's  the  use  of  my  staying  here?" 
"I'll  tell  you.     Let's  turn  down  this  way  where 
we'll  be  alone." 


CHAPTER  XII 

HE  MEETS  A  BULLET 

On  the  following  Tuesday  the  Midland  Railway 
bill  passed  the  Senate,  having  on  Monday  run 
through  the  smooth  channels  of  the  House,  and  was 
now  ready  for  the  Governor's  name  to  make  it  a 
law.  Financial  arrangements  had  been  perfected 
in  the  East  and  the  money  was  sure.  Shor:ly  after 
the  bill  passed  the  Senate,  Wiley  Jones  called  on 
Willetts.  The  lobbyist  lived  in  a  suite  of  rooms  not 
far  from  the  state  house.  A  negro  was  shaving  him 
when  Jones  knocked  at  the  door. 

"See  who  it  is,  Zeb,"  said  Willetts.  He  never 
called  out  "come  in!"  His  door  was  always  locked. 
The  negro  admitted  Jones  without  asking  a  ques- 
tion, having  done  so  time  and  again,  and  the  legis- 
lator strode  into  the  room. 

"Willetts,"  said  he,  "I'd  like  to  see  you  alone." 

"Yes,  just  as  soon  as  he  gets  through  with  me; 

110 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  111 

won't  take  long.  Everything  seems  to  be  all  right, 
doesn't  it?" 

"I  don't  know,"  growled  Jones,  sitting  down. 

The  negro's  work  was  soon  done.  As  he  tip-toed 
out  of  the  room,  Willetts  locked  the  door  and  turned 
to  Jones,  who,  without  preliminary  words,  asked 
when  he  was  to  get  his  money. 

"Why,  just  as  soon  as  I  get  mine." 

"And  when  will  that  be?" 

"The  company's  agent  will  pay  over  the  cash  just 
as  soon  as  the  bill  is  signed." 

"Suppose  it  is  never  signed?" 

"Nonsense!  That's  fixed.  You  needn't  worry 
about  the  old  man." 

"Well,  I'm  doing  business  with  you,  not  with 
him.  Nothing  was  said  about  waiting  for  his  signa- 
ture. Our  deal  called  for  the  cash  when  the  bill  was 
passed — ten  thousand,  spot  cash.  I've  done  my 
work  and  put  the  bill  through.  Now  I  want  the 
money." 

"Don't  be  in  a  rush.  This  thing  is  safe  enough. 
The  bill,  as  it  stands,  isn't  worth  fifteen  cents  and  it 


112  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

is  unreasonable  to  expect  them  to  pay  us  anything 
before  we  deliver  the  goods." 

"I've  delivered  mine." 

"Well,  you'll  get  your  money  when  the  rest  of  us 
do." 

"What  if  somebody  were  to  put  a  ball  through 
the  Governor  to-night?" 

"Oh,  if  the  sky  ever  falls,"  rejoined  Willetts,  sar- 
castically, "we'll  all  of  us  have  a  fine  time  catching 
larks." 

"All  right,"  persisted  Jones,  "put  it  the  other 
way;  where  would  I  be  if  you  were  accidentally  to 
meet  a  bullet  going  in  the  opposite  direction?" 

"You'd  be  'out'  ten  thousand,  I  guess.  But 
what's  the  use  of  talking?  You  are  as  likely  to  run 
against  a  bullet  as  I  am." 

"And  if  I  did,  you'd  simply  pocket  the  money  I 
have  earned  and  no  one  ever  would  be  the  wiser 
for  it.  I  want  my  pay  and  I  don't  propose  to  take 
any  chances  waiting  for  it,  either.  The  legislature 
is  on  its  last  legs  and  the  whole  Carpetbag  govern- 
ment is  liable  to  explode  any  day.  Have  you  seen 
the  old  man  since  the  bill  passed  the  Senate?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  113 

"Of  course  not;  I  haven't  had  time.  But  I  saw 
him  yesterday  after  it  passed  the  House." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Oh,  he  didn't  say  much  of  anything.  It  wasn't 
a  surprise  to  him;  he  expected  it." 

Willetts  knew  that  the  Governor  was  wavering, 
but  he  did  not  care  to  tell  Jones.  It  was  his  habit 
to  tell  just  as  much  as  was  necessary  and  no  more. 
He  could  understand  how  a  man  might  be  coerced 
into  softness,  but  why  he  should  sink  into  it  of  his 
own  accord  was  beyond  his  reckoning. 

Jones  sat  for  a  time  in  deep  thought.  He  was 
not  afraid  that  the  Governor  would  not  sign  the 
bill ;  he  was  not  really  uneasy  as  to  his  ten  thousand 
dollars;  but  he  was  in  a  mood  of  self-condemnation 
for  having  accepted  so  small  a  part  of  the  purchase 
money. 

"Willetts,"  he  said,  "I've  been  too  easy  with  you 
fellows." 

"Been  too  what?    I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"I  sold  out  too  cheap.  I  ought  to  get  twenty -five 
thousand  at  least." 


114  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Well,  I  like  to  see  a  man  value  his  services,  but 
sometimes  there's  danger  of  going  just  a  trifle  too 
far." 

"Too  far!  You  couldn't  have  done  anything 
without  me.  I  could  have  killed  the  thing  if  I'd 
wanted  to." 

Willetts  laughed.  "You  would  have  killed  your- 
self." 

"That  might  be,  but  I  could  have  let  the  life- 
blood  out  of  that  bill.  And  I  ought  to  have  more 
money." 

"You  agreed  to  take  a  certain  amount." 

"I  know  it;  but  you  haven't  paid  me  a  cent  yet. 
Let  me  tell  you  something.  I'm  going  to  have 
what  is  due  me  or  you'll  hear  something  drop.  The 
story  of  that  bill  would  make  a  good  campaign 
speech.  I  could  flop  over  to  the  other  side  just 
about  now  and  make  my  peace  for  all  time  to  come; 
and  I  can  almost  catch  sight  of  the  gubernatorial 
chair,  down  at  the  end  of  such  a  course.  That's 
all."  He  strode  out  of  the  room  and  Willetts  sat 
down  to  think. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  115 

Jones  went  to  the  House,  listened  for  a  time  to 
the  reading  of  a  dull  report,  paired  off  with  a  man 
who  lived  near  him,  but  who  represented  a  county 
on  the  other  side  of  the  state,  then  mounted  his 
horse  and  rode  off  down  into  the  country.  His 
house  was  some  distance  from  the  main  road,  and 
to  reach  it  he  had  to  ride  round  the  plantation  of 
Old  John  Reynolds.  This  was  a  waste  of  time  for 
a  busy  legislator,  so  he  had  dropped  into  the  habit 
of  throwing  down  the  old  planter's  fences  and  rid- 
ing through  his  fields.  Reynolds  had  his  just  preju- 
dices against  all  members  of  the  Carpetbag  legisla- 
ture; moreover  his  son  was  a  home  candidate  for 
Governor.  He  was  a  good-natured  man  and  did 
not  at  first  let  his  temper  get  the  better  of  him; 
but  when  the  trespasser  continued  to  throw  down 
his  fences,  he  grew  furious.  On  the  present  occa- 
sion Jones  was  about  mid-way  of  a  field  when  the 
old  man  hailed  him.  The  law-maker  halted  un- 
willingly and  listened  absent-mindedly  to  a  warm 
rebuke.  This  made  the  old  man  more  furious  and 
he  launched  forth  a  threat.    "Sir,"  said  he,  "if  you 


116  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

throw  down  my  fence  again  and  ride  through  my 
fields,  I  will  shoot  you."  Jones  was  as  corrupt  a 
man  as  could  be  found,  but  he  was  not  afraid, 
physically.  Morally,  of  course,  he  was  a  coward; 
all  corrupt  men  are.  He  grinned  a  defiance  at  the 
old  planter  and  rode  on.  A  few  days  later,  he  was 
not  present  at  roll-call;  which  excited  no  comment, 
as  negligence  seemed  part  of  the  Carpetbag  legisla- 
tor's duty.  Later,  there  was  a  commotion  in  the 
House  when  news  was  brought  that  Representative 
Jones  had  been  found  dead,  near  a  gap  in  Old  Man 
Reynolds'  fence.  He  had  been  shot.  It  was  known 
that  Reynolds  had  threatened  to  shoot  him.  It 
looked  like  a  clear  case.  A  warrant  was  issued 
for  the  arrest  of  John  Reynolds;  a  coroner's  jury 
gave  a  verdict  against  him;  he  was  taken  before  a 
justice  of  the  peace  for  preliminary  hearing  and 
was  bound  over  without  bail  to  await  the  action  of 
the  grand  jury  and  the  criminal  court.  And  his  old 
wife  went  to  jail  with  him. 

Major  Reynolds  was  out  in  the  country,  cam- 
paigning, when  he  heard  the  news  of  his  father's 


THE    CARPETBAGGER  117 

arrest.  He  learned  also,  that  his  mother  was  in 
jail;  and  there  was  but  one  conclusion — that  the 
outrage  had  been  engineered  by  Governor  Crance, 
to  blacken  the  candidacy  of  the  people's  idol.  The 
Major  was  addressing  a  meeting  when  a  man  came 
upon  the  stand  and  whispered  to  him.  He  stood 
for  a  moment  as  if  paralyzed,  then  he  quietly  said: 
"My  good  people,  circumstances  have  called  me 
back  to  the  city."  Without  another  word  he  rushed 
forth,  sprang  upon  a  horse  and  galloped  off.  A 
trusted  lieutenant,  a  game  man.  Captain  Pointer, 
rode  beside  him. 

"We  can't  get  there  before  to-night,"  said  the 
Captain. 

"No,"  the  Major  replied,  "but  we  will  get  there." 

"What  then?" 

"I  am  going  to  kill  him." 

"Of  course,  but  how?  It  won't  do  to  shoot  him 
down.    You  must  make  him  fight — if  you  can." 

"Yes,  if  I  can;  and  if  I  can't—" 

They  galloped  on  in  silence.  At  a  farm-house 
they  halted  to  change  horses.    The  farmer  was  busy 


118  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

with  his  crops  and  said  that  he  didn't  see  how  he 
could  accommodate  the  Major.  He  needed  his 
horses  for  work.  Why  not  rest  a  while?  The 
Major  explained  that  he  was  in  a  great  hurry.  The 
farmer  didn't  see  the  need  of  such  a  rush.  The 
town  would  stay  where  it  was,  he  said,  and  the 
campaign  would  keep.  He  was  the  Major's  sup- 
porter, he  added,  and  would  do  anything  in  reason 
for  him — even  make  speeches  for  him ;  but  he  could 
not  give  up  his  horses  at  such  a  time — unless  the 
case  was  very  urgent.  The  Major  looked  at  him. 
*T  am  going  to  town,"  he  said,  "to  kill  the  scoun- 
drel that  calls  himself  the  Governor  of  this  state." 
The  farmer  turned  and  shouted  to  one  of  his  men: 
"Sam,  catch  the  black  horse  and  the  roan  as  quick 
as  you  can." 


CHAPTER  XIII 


WHO  RAISED  THE  DEVIL; 


Willetts  was  in  the  House  when  the  news  of  the 
Jones  murder  was  received.  Just  at  that  moment 
he  caught  sight  of  Miss  Linford  in  the  lobby  and 
hastened  to  her.  They  talked  for  a  time,  during 
the  excitement,  and  discussed  the  probable  effect 
of  the  old  planter's  arrest  upon  his  son's  campaign. 

"I  must  go  over  to  the  preliminary  hearing," 
said  the  gambler.  'T  want  to  see  how  the  thing 
gof-,." 

"Do  you  really  think  that  the  old  man  killed 
him?"  she  asked. 

"No  doubt  of  it.  Wiley  told  me  not  long  ago 
that  his  life  had  been  threatened,  and  I  warned 
him;  but  he  was  always  headstrong  when  there 
wasn't  any  need  to  be."  They  had  walked  out  and 
were  going  down  the  steps.  "By  the  way,"  said  he, 
"we  must  see  the  Governor.  Go  with  me  up  to 
his  house  to-night.    I'll  need  you." 

119 


120  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

That  night  they  called  at  the  executive  mansion. 
Jim  admitted  them  to  the  reception  room.  "You'll 
hab  t'  wait  here  a  minute,"  said  the  darkey.  "De 
Gub'nor  is  up  sta'rs  in  de  liberry."  He  went 
slowly  up  the  broad  stairway. 

"Now  remember,"  said  Willetts,  "if  you  get  a 
chance,  nail  him.  Never  let  him  get  away — you 
can  do  it." 

Lucy  Linford  looked  at  him.  There  were  no 
smiles  for  him.  With  him  she  was  natural,  sober 
— and  a  woman's  nature  is  usually  sober.  Her 
frivolity  is  nearly  always  a  pretense.  She  may  rave 
over  foolish  things,  but  at  heart  she  is  practical. 
She  looked  at  him  and  replied:  "All  right,  but 
keep  out  of  my  way.    Give  me  a  chance." 

"Hit  hard,"  Willetts  went .  on.  "You  can  do 
more  with  him  than  1  could.  He's  cooling  toward 
me." 

She  gave  him  a  chilly  smile  to  illustrate  her  point. 
*'I  think  the  weather  has  been  changing  slightly 
for  both  of  us." 

Willetts  gave  his  shoulders  a  shrug  of  impatience. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  121 

"No  more  of  'both  of  us'.  You  are  on  a  dead  card 
with  your  scheme.  We've  got  to  pull  together. 
Your  school-book  bill  is  laid  out  and  you  can't 
resurrect  it.  All  the  Midland  bill  needs  now  is 
his  name — make  him  stick  it  on." 

"And  if  I  land  him?"  She  tried  to  give  him  a 
sweet  and  innocent  look. 

"Three  hundred  thousand — Europe,"  said  Wil- 
letts. 

"And  Lummers?"  she  asked.  "What  about 
him?" 

Willetts  snififed.  "A  two-spot.  He's  been  of  no 
use  to  us,  anyway.  We'll  throw  him  in  the  deck." 
The  gambler  stepped  close  to  her.  "See  here,"  he 
said,  pointing  to  a  charm  which  weighed  down  his 
watch  chain — a  large,  golden  horseshoe  set  with 
diamonds.  "I  sat  in  a  game  with  a  couple  of  horse- 
men last  night  and  cleaned  them  out.  One  of  them 
staked  his  watchcharm  and  I  won  it.  Do  you  know 
what  this  horseshoe  signifies?  It  means  good  luck. 
Understand?  Good  luck  for  you  and  me,  as  long 
as  we  pull  together." 


122  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

Jim  came  down  the  stairway.  "De  Gub'nor  will 
be  down  in  a  minute,  sah."  He  stepped  out  upon 
the  pillared  veranda,  and  they  heard  him  slowly 
pacing  up  and  down,  like  a  sentinel. 

"This  thing's  got  to  be  rushed,"  said  Willetts. 
"It's  getting  squally  around  here.  See?"  he  added, 
nodding  toward  Jim,  "that  nigger  is  on  guard  at 
the  state  house  all  day  and  is  up  here  at  night.  The 
old  man  can't  trust  any  one  else.  Suppose  some- 
body should  come  in  here  and  blow  his  head  off! 
Where  would  our  bill  be?  And  there  it  is,  ready 
to  be  signed.  Make  him  do  it."  He  swore  and 
brought  his  hand  down  hard  upon  a  table.  "Why 
is  he  hanging  back  now?" 

She  gave  a  little  laugh,  as  cold  as  the  trickling 
of  ice  water.  "Don't  you  know?  Are  all  men  as 
blind  as  bats?  I  saw  it  the  first  day  I  met  the 
Governor — ^just  the  moment  she  came  into  the 
office." 

"Some  reform  notion,  I  suppose,"  Willetts 
grunted.    "He  never  acted  this  way  before." 

"It's  worse  than  that,"  she  said.  "It's  the 
widow." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  123 

"What,  Mrs.  Fairburn!"  Willetts  exclaimed  in  a 
loud  whisper, 

"Why,  of  course.  You  remember  who  raised  the 
devil  in  the  Garden  of  Eden,  don't  you?" 

Willetts  looked  at  her.  "Well,  ain't  you  a 
woman?    Can't  you  do  the  same?" 

"Maybe — but  if  I  did  I  should  want  a  pretty 
big  bite  of  the  apple." 

"And  you  shall  have  it.    Look  out!" 

The  Governor  came  slowly  down  the  stairway. 
His  face  was  serious.  He  looked  troubled;  but 
greeted  them  pleasantly.  Lucy  smiled,  not  with 
chilliness  now,  but  with  sweetness  and  warmth. 
"Good  evening,  Governor.     I  hope  you  are  well." 

Willetts  boldly  struck  out:  "Well,  everything 
seems  to  have  been  coming  our  way  to-day."  he 
remarked  airily. 

The  Governor  had  begun  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  room,  his  hands  behind  him.  "I  don't  know 
about  that,"  he  said.    "I  don't  like  it — it's  bad." 

Willetts  spoke  up  quickly.  "Murder  always  is 
bad.    But  who's  to  blame  for  it?    We're  not.    And 


124  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

if  the  charge  sticks,  you  are  Governor  again,  all 
right." 

"But  it  looks  like  a  trumped-up  case,"  said  the 
Governor,  still  walking  to  and  fro.  "I  don't  know 
that  there  was  evidence  to  warrant  the  old  man's 
arrest,  to  say  nothing  of  sending  him  to  jail." 

Willetts  took  issue  with  him.  "Excuse  me.  Gov- 
ernor, but  that's  where  you  are  wrong.  There's 
no  doubt  about  this  thing.  Why,  Old  Man  Rey- 
nolds had  threatened  to  kill  Jones — and  for  pre- 
cisely the  same  cause.  It's  a  clear  case,  and  if  the 
courts  stand  by  us,  it'll  knock  his  son's  canvass 
against  you  higher  than  a  kite." 

The  Governor  halted  and  confronted  him.  "How 
do  you  know  it's  a  clear  case?" 

"Why,  I  was  at  the  preliminary  hearing  before 
the  justice  of  the  peace.  It  seems  that  Wiley  Jones 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  riding  through  Old  Man 
Reynolds'  plantation,  and  several  times  he  threw 
down  the  fences  and  left  them  for  some  one  else 
to  put  up.  The  old  man,  you  know,  was  inclined 
to  be  hot-headed,  so  he  waited  for  Wiley.    'Here,' 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  125 

he  said,  'don't  you  do  that  again  or  there'll  be 
trouble,'  but  the  next  day  the  fences  were  down. 
Then  the  old  man  went  after  Wiley,  'If  you  go 
over  my  fields  again,  whether  you  throw  down  the 
fences  or  not,'  he  said,  'I'll  put  a  hole  through  you.' 
Well,  you  know  the  rest.  Wiley  was  seen  riding 
toward  the  plantation  again  this  morning.  Shortly 
afterward  his  horse  came  home.  Later  they  found 
Wiley — bullet  hole  in  his  head.  Fences  thrown 
down  again.  Coroner's  jury  said,  'Old  Man  Rey- 
nolds.' Justice  of  the  peace  says,  'Old  J\Ian  Rey- 
nolds.' Everybody  says,  'Old  Man  Reynolds.'  It's 
all  one  way." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Governor,  walking  up  and  down 
the  room,  "but  it  was  all  so  hurried.  The  old  man 
couldn't  get  away.  It  looks  bad.  And  I  under- 
stand that  his  poor  old  wife,  refusing  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  him,  has  actually  gone  to  the  jail  with 
him." 

Willetts  was  ready  with  what  he  thought  a  clinch- 
ing argument.  "But,  Governor,  we  can't  help  the 
foolishness  of  a  silly  old  woman." 


126  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

The  Governor  wheeled  about.  "Foolishness! 
Sir,  I  call  it  a  most  beautiful  picture  of  womanly 
devotion." 

The  Governor  had  shown  so  strongly  the  spirit 
of  condemnation  that  Willetts  did  not  care  to  risk 
an  argument  of  the  case,  so  he  said  meekly:  "Yes, 
that's  all  right;  but  what  could  they  do?  She 
would  go." 

"She  must  be  got  out  of  there.  I'll  send  for 
her — I'll  send  for  both  of  them.  I  want  to  hear 
his  story.     Here." 

The  Governor  took  out  a  note  book,  wrote  upon 
a  leaf,  tore  it  out,  folded  it,  handed  it  to  Willetts 
and  said:  "Take  this  to  the  sheriff  and  have  them 
brought  here." 

Willetts  began  to  hem  and  haw.  "Governor,  I'm 
not  on  the  best  of  terms  with  the  sheriiif  just  now. 
We  had  a  little  difference,  and " 

"Take  it  to  Lummers,  then.  Tell  him  to  look 
after  it  at  once." 

Willetts  bowed  and  started  toward  the  door,  and 
as  he  passed  Lucy,  he  whispered:  "Now." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  127 

"Governor,"  she  began,  "I  hoped  to  find  you  in 
a  pleasant  frame  of  mind  to-night.  But  I  suppose 
you  are  bothered  a  great  deal,  aren't  you?" 

They  had  sat  down  on  a  divan,  she  beaming 
sweetly  upon  him.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "by  little  things 
— trifles — flies!  A  big  thing,  it  would  be  dififerent. 
You  can  choke  a  dog  till  its  eyes  pop  out,  but  you 
can't  choke  a  fly.  I  guess  you're  never  bothered 
that  way.    There  are  no  flies  on  you." 

Her  smile  was  radiant.  She  liked  him  best  when 
he  was  inclined  to  be  humorous,  for  then  she  felt 
her  influence  over  him.  "Now  you  are  yourself. 
That's  better — I  like  you  now."  She  moved  closer 
to  him,  with  a  disposition  to  cuddle  up  against  him. 

"Do  you?  How  much?"  He  looked  upon  the 
freshness  of  her  face,  felt  the  dazzle  of  her  smile. 
Surely  she  was  an  engaging  woman — and  the  Gov- 
ernor was  not  an  anchorite. 

"More  than  you  will  ever  know,  or  any  one  else 
will  believe,"  she  said,  cuddling  closer  to  him. 

"But  how  much  is  that?" 

"I  would  rather  show  you  than  to  tell  you.    But 


128  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

seriously,  Governor,  would  you  do  me  a  favor — a 
great  favor — if  you  could  do  it  just  as  well  as  not?" 

"I  don't  know;  I  might — they  say  I'm  about 
mean  enough  for  anything,  you  know.  But  that 
school-book  business  is " 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that." 

"No?" 

"No.  The  state  of  Mississippi  won't  indorse 
your  old  reader's  platform — 'we  must  educate,  we 
must  educate  or  we  must  perish'." 

"No  books?    What's  up  now?" 

"I  want  your  name." 

The  Governor  prankishly  shrank  from  her.  "Oh, 
this  is  so  sudden." 

"Calm  your  fluttering  heart,"  she  laughed.  "I 
want  you  officially." 

"Oh,  only  officially.  I  don't  see  anything  very 
flattering  in  that." 

"Yes,  officially — at  present." 

"And  by  and  by?" 

"We'll  see  about  that.  But,  now,  the  favor — the 
Midland  Railway  bill." 

"Ah,  switched,  have  you?    What's  that  for?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  129 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  think  it  would  be  a  good 
thing " 

"For  the  state,  of  course,"  he  interrupted.  "Well, 
maybe  you're  right.  As  an  employer  I  guess  the 
state  will  pay  you  better  than  old  Steve's  book 
concern.  Mississippi  always  paid  me  everything 
that  was  coming  to  me — and  most  everything  has 
been  coming." 

"Well,  why  not?  The  state  doesn't  pay  its  public 
servants  what  they  really  deserve." 

"Well,  no;  some  of  us,  I  guess,  never  get  what 
we  really  deserve." 

She  laughed,  pleased  that  he  was  still  in  a  humor- 
ous mood.  "But  why  shouldn't  the  state  have 
what  it  d-eserves?  It  wants  this  Midland  railroad. 
Why  do  you  delay  signing  the  bill?" 

"There  are  several  swamps  about  it  that  I  want 
to  look  into." 

"But  the  legislators  have  done  that,"  she  quickly 
replied.     "That's  what  they  are  hired  for." 

"Um,  no,"  he  spoke  up,  shaking  his  head.  "Not 
exactly.  They  are  hired  for  ten  dollars  a  day — and 
never  adjourn." 


130  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

**But  you  are  going  to  sign  the  bill,  aren't  you?" 

"Well,  you  see " 

"For  my  sake,"  she  broke  in,  closer  to  him,  gaz- 
ing into  his  eyes,  "for  me." 

"Well,  for  your  sake,  I  guess " 

Jim  interrupted  by  stepping  in  from  the  portico. 

"Scuse  me,  sah.  Mis'  Fairburn  an'  dat  boy  what 
calls  hisse'f  Cap'n." 

The  Governor  got  up  as  quickly  as  he  could. 

"Show  them  in,"  he  commanded,  and  then  added, 
to  Lucy:  "They  won't  stay  long.  Step  up  to  the 
library  a  minute.    I'll  soon  get  rid  of  them." 

She  hastened  to  obey.    On  the  landing  she  halted. 

"Governor,"  she  whispered,  "may  I  hope?" 

"You  couldn't  do  anything  better,"  he  gaily 
replied,  waving  his  hand  at  her,  as  she  threw  him  a 
kiss. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  OLD  man's  SIDE  OF  IT 

Mrs.  Fairburn  and  the  "Captain"  came  into  the 
room.  The  Governor  saluted  them  graciously. 
The  visit  was,  of  course,  a  surprise.  They  were 
neighbors,  in  the  sense  of  living  near,  but  they  were 
far  apart  socially.  In  a  moment  the  Governor  had 
forgotten  the  existence  of  the  dashing  creature  up- 
stairs in  the  library.  The  Yankee  who  has  done 
wrong  may  never  reform,  but  he  is  ever  on  the  look- 
out for  an  opportunity  to  do  so.  It  is  hard  wholly 
to  corrupt  the  blood  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  It 
may  sometimes  be  harsh  but  never  entirely  dis- 
honest. So  the  v/oman  up-stairs  was  ignored, 
which  was  surely  honest,  and  the  Carpetbagger 
smiled  upon  the  widow.  He  was  not  without  a 
sense  of  poetry  and  he  fancied  that  she  had  brought 
with  her  the  fragrance  of  the  perfumed  dews,  drip- 
ping from  the  blossoms. 

131 


132  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Good  evening,  Mrs.  Fairburn  and — Captain," 
was  the  way  he  welcomed  them — not  much  in 
words,  but  his  eyes  showed  a  warmer  greeting. 
"Sit  down,  won't  you?" 

"I  thank  you/'  said  Mrs.  Fairburn,  "but  my  mis- 
sion is  one  of  exceeding  sadness." 

She  sank  into  a  chair.  The  Governor  knew  what 
she  meant;  but  he  bowed  and  said  interrogatively: 
"Ah?" 

"Of  course  you  know,"  she  began,  "that  this 
afternoon  old  Mr.  Reynolds — " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  the  Governor  broke  in.  "I  know 
— bad,  bad.  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  had  anything 
to  do  with  it."  He  gave  her  a  searching  look,  won- 
dering if  she  did.  But  she  put  him  at  ease  when 
frankly  she  added: 

"Oh,  surely  not.  Governor." 

"Thank  you/'  he  remarked  with  a  sigh.  "I  have 
already  waived  all  law  in  the  matter,  and  Fm  going 
straight  to  the  bottom  of  it  myself," 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  that.  Mr.  Reynolds,  you 
know,  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  highly  re- 
spected— " 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  133 

"Yes,  I  know,"  he  broke  in,  "and  I  give  you  my 
word  that  he  shall  have  full  justice — law  or  no  law." 

The  "Captain"  had  sat  down  stiffly  on  a  straight- 
back  chair,  looking  straight  before  him  as  a  mili- 
tary man  should.  He  paid  no  attention  to  the  con- 
versation of  these  civilians.  The  arrest  of  an  old 
man  could  not  interest  him,  unless  it  involved  a 
court-martial. 

"Governor,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn,  "there  is  some- 
thing higher  than  the  mere  forms  of  law.  Above 
all  law  stands  the  sublime  figure — Justice." 

"But  like  her  twin  sister.  Truth,  she  is  sometimes 
obscured  by  the  dark  fogs  of  ignorance  and  malice," 
the  Governor  replied,  and  the  widow  gave  him  a 
look  in  which  there  was  no  sectional  prejudice — 
the  look  of  a  woman  whose  admiration  was  rising. 

At  this  point  the  boy  spoke  up.  "Governor,  has 
my  commission  got  here  yet?"  He  did  not  look 
around. 

"Ah,  your  commission — from  Washington.  No, 
not  quite."  And  then  speaking  to  Mrs.  Fairburn 
the  Governor  added:    "I  have  sent  for  old  Mr.  Rey- 


134  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

noMs,  and  have  ordered  him  brought  here.  I  want 
to  hear  his  side  of  the  story." 

"I  am  so  glad,  Governor.  And  whatever  he  tells 
you,  you  may  rely  upon  as  the  whole  truth." 

Nellie  jumped  in  at  the  door,  slammed  it  after 
her,  and  then,  opening  it  wide  enough  to  peep 
through,  cried  out:  "Go  back,  don't  you  come  in 
here." 

"What  have  you  got  there?"  the  Governor  asked. 
"The  alligator?" 

"No,  sir,  it's  Bulger.  That  dog  will  be  the  death 
of  me."  She  turned  and  with  a  look  of  surprise 
recognized  Mrs.  Fairburn.  "Why,  good  evening." 
Then  she  saw  the  boy.  "Hello,  Roy!"  she  cried, 
"I  haven't  seen  you  since  this  morning."  She  ran 
over  to  him. 

"Nellie,"  said  her  father,  "can't  you  find  a  chair?" 

"Yes,  sir,  but  I  don't  want  one.  Come  on,  Roy, 
I've  got  something  I  want  to  show  you."  The 
"soldier"  forgot  his  military  training  and  romped 
with  her,  up  and  down  the  veranda  and  out  in  the 
soft  moonlight  among  the  magnolia  trees. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  135 

"They  seem  to  have  grown  very  fond  of  each 
other,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Governor;  "along  with  their 
cats  and  their  alligators  and  their  bulldogs,  my 
room  looks  like  a  case  of  delirium  tremens." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  smiled.  After  a  short  silence  she 
said:  "There  is  another  matter,  Governor.  Do  you 
remember?  The  pardon  for  that  Francis  boy.  You 
said  you  would  look  into  it." 

"Did  I?" 

"You  promised  me  you  would." 

"Promised  you?  I  guess  I  did."  He  reached 
over  and  touched  a  bell.  The  negro  appeared. 
"Jim,"  he  said,  "go  up  to  the  library  and  bring  me 
the  papers  in  the  upper  right  hand  pigeon-hole  of 
my  desk.  If  I'm  not  mistaken  the  pardon  is  among 
those  papers,  Mrs.   Fairburn." 

Jim  slowly  mounted  the  stairs,  repeating  to  him- 
self, "Upper  right  hand  cornder,  upper  right  hand 
cornder."  * 

"I  felt  sure  you  had  merely  overlooked  it,  Gov- 
ernor." 


136  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"It  isn't  that,"  he  replied.  "I've  been  too  busy- 
to  look  into  it." 

"It  wouldn't  take  so  very  long,  would  it,  Gov- 
ernor?" 

The  Governor  looked  at  her.  Frankly  she  met 
his  gaze.  How  beautiful  her  eyes  were;  how  musi- 
cal her  voice  sounded;  how  perfectly  her  gown 
fitted!  Surely  she  didn't  look  like  the  mother  of 
a  son  old  enough  to  slaughter  Indians!  There 
Vv^as  a  peculiar  softness  in  his  voice  as  he  slowly 
replied:  "It  wouldn't  take  me  very  long,  Mrs. 
Fairburn,  to  look  into  any  matter  in  which  you 
were  interested." 

Jim  came  down  stairs,  limping  to  imply  mystery, 
and,  handing  the  Governor  some  papers,  whispered: 
"White  lady  up  dar,  sah."  The  Governor  took  the 
documents,  making  him  a  sly  sign  to  keep  quiet, 
and  began  to  read  over  their  titles — 'Concurrent 
Resolution,  68' — 'To  establish  free  schools  and  to 
provide  for' — 'Midland  Railway  bill' — Ah."  He 
glanced  toward  the  library,  put  this  paper  into  his 
pocket,  and  proceeded  to  read:     "'Pardon,  Elias 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  131 

Francis.'  This  is  it.  Thought  it  was  here  some- 
where." He  returned  several  papers  to  Jim  and 
told  him  to  put  them  back  where  he  found  them. 
"Upper  right  hand  corner,  remember." 

"Yas,  sah."  Mounting  the  stairs  the  darkey  re- 
peated, "Upper  right  hand  cornder"  until  he 
reached  the  landing. 

"And,  say,  Jim,"  the  Governor  called,  "bring  a 
pen  and  ink." 

"Yas,  sah.  Upper  right  hand  cornder — pen  and 
ink." 

"Governor,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn,  "you  don't 
know  how  much  that  piece  of  paper  is  worth  to 
me." 

A  feeling  of  rascally  humor  seized  the  Governor 
and  he  significantly  replied:  "Well,  you  don't  know 
how  much  it  might  have  been  worth  to  me  either." 

"It  will  carry  joy  to  a  stricken  household,"  said 
the  widow,  too  earnest  in  her  gratitude  to  catch  the 
Governor's  joke. 

"It  couldn't  be  borne  by  a  better  messenger, 
madam.." 

"Thank  you.  Governor,  you  are  very  kind." 


138  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"How's  that?  Kind?  Then  there  must  be  some- 
thing wrong  with  me  to-night,  for  I  haven't  heard 
that  before  since  I  struck  the  state."  Jim  came 
down.  "On  the  table,"  said  the  Governor,  motion- 
ing. The  negro  put  down  the  pen  and  inkstand 
and  took  occasion  to  slyly  whisper: 

"White  lady  up  dar  yit,  sah." 

"Go  on,  go  on,"  commanded  the  Governor,  and 
under  his  breath  added  something  that  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn  did  not  hear — it  was  just  as  well  that  she 
didn't.  Jim  nodded,  grinned  and  resumed  his  place 
on  the  portico,  slowly  pacing  up  and  down. 

The  Governor  signed  the  pardon.  "Understand," 
he  said,  "I  don't  really  know  anything  about  thii 
merits  of  this  case;  I  do  this  for — " 

"For  justice,  Governor." 

"No,"  said  he,  handing  her  the  paper,  "for  a  live 
goddess." 

There  was  a  tramping  of  feet  on  the  flag-stone 
walk.  The  Governor  listened.  Mrs.  Fairburn 
arose.  Jim  stepped  in.  "Mr.  Lummers,  Mr.  Wil- 
letts  an'  some  udder  folks,  sah." 

"Show  them  in.    It's  Mr.  Reynolds." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  139 

"I  must  go,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn.  "Where's 
Roy?" 

"Don't — please  don't/'  the  Governor  pleaded. 
"Wait."  i 

They  stood  a  Httle  apart,  with  their  eyes  on  the 
door,  waiting  for  the  newcomers  to  enter.  Tremu- 
lous, but  walking  proudly,  old  John  Reynolds,  fol- 
lowed by  the  rest  came  through  the  broad  door- 
way. The  old  planter  was  a  picture,  a  picture  now 
almost  faded  from  the  canvas  of  our  national  life, 
an  out-of-date  dignity,  an  emphasis  of  over-con- 
scious self-respect  in  black.  He  advanced  well 
within  the  room,  glanced  down  to  see  that  his  wife 
was  beside  him,  and  stood  erect,  as  still  as  his  phys- 
ical weakness  would  permit.  It  was  some  time 
before  a  word  was  spoken.  The  Governor  bowed 
and  was  silent,  gazing  at  the  old  man — the  palsied 
remnant  of  a  country's  aristocracy.  Mrs.  Fairburn 
ran  to  the  woman  and  embraced  her.  Willetts  was 
the  first  to  speak. 

"Well,  here  we  are,  Governor." 

"Yes,"  Lummers  spoke  up,  "and  a  hard  time  we 
had  bringing  them,  too." 


140  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

The  Governor  cleared  his  throat.  "Sit  down, 
everybody,"  he  commanded,  but  no  one  moved. 

The  old  man  took  no  notice  of  the  Governor, 
but  with  a  courtly  gesture  addressed  himself  to  Mrs. 
Fairburn.  "Good  evening,  Madam.  And  have  you 
come  here  to  intercede  for  me?  That  was  wrong, 
Madam;  it  should  not  have  been  done."  Then  he 
slowly  turned  his  old  eyes  upon  the  Governor. 
"Will  you  inform  me  for  what  purpose  I  have  been 
brought  here  in  violation  of  all  forms  of  law?" 

Mrs.  Reynolds  gently  touched  his  arm.  "John!" 
she  pleadingly  said. 

The  old  man  turned  and  bowed  to  her,  and  then 
addressed  the  Governor.    "Well,  sir!" 

The  Governor's  voice  was  so  soft  that  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn  looked  at  him  quickly,  and  Willetts  moved 
uneasily.  "Mr.  Reynolds,  no  one  could  regret  more 
deeply — " 

"Spare  yourself  that  trouble,  sir,"  the  old  man 
interrupted.    "Am  I  to  be  informed?" 

"Mr.  Reynolds,  I  have  sent  for  you  to — " 

"By  what  authority?"  the  old  man  broke  in„ 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  141 

"Well,  by  the  authority  of  a  kindly  interest — if 
no  other." 

"I  recognize  no  such  authority,  sir." 

The  old  woman  touched  his  arm  again  and  called 
his  name,  speaking  it  in  a  voice  full  of  sorrow  an(J 
admonition — "Jo^^-"    He  saluted  her  gallantly. 

"Now  that  you  have  come,"  continued  the  Gov- 
ernor, "I  should  like  to  hear  your  story." 

"Story?  I  do  not  come  here  primed  with  ; 
story." 

"I  want  to  hear  your  side  of  the  case." 

"This  is  no  court  of  law,  sir." 

"Of  course  not;  but  understand — I  do  not  de 
mand  this — I  request  it." 

There  was  a  softening  change  in  the  old  man*-. 
manner.  "Very  well,  sir,  you  shall  have  it.  Om 
morning  I  found  that  some  one  had  thrown  dowr 
my  fences  and  ridden  through  my  plantation.  I 
put  the  fences  up.  The  next  day  I  saw  a  man 
throw  down  the  fence  and  start  to  ride  through.  I 
hailed  him.  'Sir,'  I  said,  'don't  you  do  that  again.^ 
He  made  a  sneering  answer  and  rode  on.    Theii 


142  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

I  called  out  to  him:  'Sir,  if  you  do  that  again  I 
will  shoot  you.'  I  am  told  that  to-day  my  fences 
were  thrown  down  again  and  that  this  man  rode 
through.  Later,  he  was  found  dead  near  a  gap 
that  he  had  made  in  the  fence." 

"With  a  bullet  hole  in  his  head,"  Willetts 
spoke  up. 

The  Governor  made  a  gesture  to  enjoin  silence. 
The  old  man  proceeded: 

"Somebody  had  killed  him.  I  did  not.  And  do 
you  think,  sir,  that  if  he  had  fallen  by  my  hand, 
I  would  stand  here  and  deny  it?  No,  sir.  I  did 
not  kill  him;  but — the  infamous  scoundrel,  I  wish 
to  God  I  had!" 

Willetts  stepped  forward.  "Governor,"  he  be- 
gan, "you  must  remember — " 

"Silence,  sir!"  the  Governor  thundered.  Then 
in  kindly  tones  he  said:  "Mr.  Reynolds,  I  have  de- 
cided to  take  the  law  in  my  own  hands — " 

"You  have  already  done  that,  sir." 

"And  release  you  on  your  own  recognizance." 

"You  cannot  do  that,  sir.  I  am  answerable  to 
the  sheriff  alone." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  143 

"I  made  the  sheriff,"  the  Governor  quietly  re- 
plied, 

"Then,  sir,  to  the  law,"  said  the  old  man. 

"Damn  the  law — I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies." 
The  Governor  had  lost  his  patience,  though  not  in 
unkindness,    "Take  them  away!"  he  said. 

"Stop!"  Reynolds  interposed,  "I  demand  to  be 
taken  back  to  the  jail." 

His  old  wife's  pleading  voice  was  heard.  "Oh, 
John,  let  us  not  go  back  to  the  jail,"  she  said.  "It's 
such  a  dreary  place." 

"To  the  jail!"  he  cried  excitedly.    "It  is  the  law." 

The  old  woman  looked  up  at  him  as  he  turned 
away.  Taking  his  hand  she  softly  said:  "Then 
we'll  go  back  together." 

They  turned  toward  the  door  and  went  out  in 
silence.  Willetts  and  Lummers  prepared  to  follow 
them. 

"Wait,"  said  the  Governor.  "Put  them  down 
at  their  own  door." 

"But,  Governor,"  Willetts  interrupted. 


144  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Do  as  I  tell  you — at  their  own  door.  Don't  let 
them  knov/  where  th.ey  are  going^.  Lummers,  go 
to  the  sheriff  and  tell  liim  that  under  no  conditions 
are  they  to  be  admitted  to  the  jail  again.    Go!" 


CHAPTER  XV 


A  HORTICULTURAL   IDEA 


The  Governor  and  Mrs.  Fairburn  stood  in 
silence  till  they  heard  the  carriage  roll  away.  'Gov- 
ernor," said  the  widow,  extending  her  hand,  "I 
thank  you.     It  was  a  noble  act." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  he  replied,  taking  the 
proffered  hand  gingerly. 

"You  have  proved  yourself  a  man,  Governor." 

"You  are  surprised?" 

"I  am  highly  pleased." 

"But — surprised.  I'm  sorry.  You  came  to  see 
the  Governor  and  were  surprised  to  find  a  man." 

"I  am  glad  that  the  man  I  found  is  greater  than 
the  Governor  I  came  to  see." 

The  Governor  waved  his  hand  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  these  warm  words  of  praise,  and  motioning 
toward  a  chair  said:  "Sit  down.  Mrs.  Fairburn," 
he  said,  after  a  pause,  "do  you  think  it  wrong  for 

145 


146  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

a  man  to  play  the  cards  that  circumstances  have 
dealt  him?" 

"Not  if  he  play  them  honorably,  Governor." 
"In  a  game  where  everyone  else  is  cheating?" 
"An  honorable  man  should  not  be  found  in  such 
a  game,"  she  replied. 

"But  remember,"  he  insisted,  "the  cards  of  life 
are  dealt  by  circumstances.  A  man  is  forced  into 
the  game,  and  must  play  the  hand  that  is  waiting 
for  him." 

She  did  not  agree  with  him.  "Man  is  not  the 
creature  but  the  creator  of  circumstances,"  she 
said  quietly. 

"No,"  contended  the  Governor,  "the  wise  man  as 
well  as  the  fool  is  a  creature  of  environment."  He 
ran  his  lingers  through  his  hair,  thinking.  Sud- 
denly he  looked  up.  "Imagine  a  tangled  garden," 
he  said,  "wild  and  neglected,  choked  with  weeds 
and  briars,  an  unsightly  jungle.  Amid  that  rank 
wilderness  of  weeds  a  single  rose  lifts  its  head.  It 
isn't  much  of  a  rose;  but  it  is  a  rose.  Do  the 
magnificent   flowers    which    glorify   the    well-kept 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  147 

garden  across  the  road,  deserve  more  credit  than 
that  stunted  weakUng  which  has  fought  its  way  to 
the  air  and  the  sun?" 

It  was  her  turn  to  reflect,  and  she  did  so  for  a 
moment  or  two.  "But  who  would  plant  a  rose  in 
such  a  jungle?" 

"Circumstances  might;  circumstances  do,"  he 
replied.    "Is  that  the  fault  of  the  rose?" 

"No,"  she  admitted.  "We  are  not  responsible  for 
our  existence;  we  are  responsible  for  our  lives. 
How  much  better  if  kindly  hands  would  tear  away 
the  weeds  and  let  in  the  pure  air  and  the  snn-light." 

Jim  stepped  in  and  handed  the  Governor  a  card. 
He  looked  at  it.  "Um,  Captain  Pointer.  Tell  the 
Captain  to  come  in." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  arose.  "I  must  find  Roy,"  she 
said,  "and  bid  you  good-night." 

"No;  not  yet,  please." 

"Yes,  I  really  must  be  going.  I  don't  know  why 
I  should  have  remained  so  long.     I " 

Captain  Pointer  appeared  at  the  door.  He  sav/ 
Mrs.  Fairburn,  bowed  to  her  and  entered  the  room. 


148  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

Advancing  toward  the  Governor  he  halted  and  with 
a  military  salute,  bade  him  good  evening.  Mrs. 
Fairburn  turned  toward  Jim  who  stood  at  the  door. 

"I  wish  you  would  see  if  you  can  find  my  son," 
she  said,  "tell  him  that  it's  time  we  were  going 
home." 

"Just  a  minute,"  the  Governor  spoke  up,  address- 
ing Mrs.  Fairburn  as  the  negro  hastened  ofif.  "I'm 
rather  interested  in  that  horticultural  idea  of  yours." 

The  Captain  glanced  slily  at  Mrs.  Fairburn  and 
handed  the  Governor  a  letter.  The  Governor 
opened  it,  read  its  brief  contents  and  handed  it 
back.  Mrs.  Fairburn  had  moved  over  to  the  win- 
dow, and  stood  there  looking  out  with  her  face 
turned  away  from  the  two  men. 

"I  don't  believe  in  this  sort  of  thing,"  said  the 
Governor  in  a  low  tone;  "don't  believe  in  it  at  all — • 
seventeenth  century.  Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him. 
Ask  him  to  come  here — alone — and  we'll  talk  it 
over;" 

The  Captain  gave  him  a  cool  smile.  "But,  Gov- 
ernor, such  vi  t\:i)g  WyiuXi  be — " 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  149 

"I  know  all  about  that;  you  tell  him  to  come 
here." 

"He  will  no  doubt  come,  sir,  if  you  refuse  to — " 

"Good-night,  sir.     Give  him  my  answer." 

The  Captain,  with  his  smile  growing  cooler, 
bowed  himself  out.  Mrs.  Fairburn  did  not  look 
round.  If  she  had  heard  their  conversation  she 
gave  no  indication  of  that  fact. 

The  Governor  advanced  toward  her.  "'Mrs.  Fair- 
burn,"  he  began,  "when  I  was  a  boy  I  used  to  fear 
death;  now  I  know  that  life  is  the  only  thing  to  be 
feared.  The  ruler  of  an  enemy's  country — with 
every  man's  hand  against  me — not  a  friend  save  my 
own  flesh  and  blood  and  one  whose  skin  is  as  black 
as  the  estimation  in  which  I  am  held.  That  is  my 
garden,  Mrs.  Fairburn." 

"It  may  be  an  enemy's  country.  Governor,  but  it 
holds  one  friend  who  will  always  be  grateful  to  you 
and  a  hand  that  shall  never  be  against  you."  She 
held  forth  her  hand  and  the  Governor  took  it. 

"Mrs.  Fairburn,"  he  cried,  "I  am  the  one  to  feel 
grateful  to-night;  and  I  do."     He  hesitated  for  a 


150  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

moment,  still  holding  her  hand.  "You  have 
changed  the  current  of  my  life." 

"Governor,"  the  widow  slowly  said,  with  more 
earnestness  than  he  had  ever  noticed  before,  "a 
little  thing  may  serve  to  divert  the  current  of  your 
life;  but  you  alone  can  change  it." 

"Alone?"  echoed  the  Governor,  looking  into  her 
eyes. 

"Alone,"  she  repeated.  "You  must  do  it  your- 
self." 

She  gently  withdrew  her  hand  and  for  a  moment 
neither  spoke.  There  was  a  queer  lump  in  the  Car- 
petbagger's throat  which  kept  him  silent  and  Mrs. 
Fairburn  seemed  to  be  thinking  of  something  away 
back  in  the  past.  "Governor,"  she  said  at  last,  her 
voice  low  and  musical  and  soothing,  "I  was  born 
among  the  mountains  of  old  Tennessee  and  I  love 
that  rugged  country.  To  me  there  is  nothing  in 
the  whole  realm  of  nature  more  beautiful  than  a 
mountain  brook — clear  as  crystal,  bright  as  the 
sunshine,  sweet  as  the  dews  of  heaven.  I  never 
see  a  muddy  stream,  dark  and  polluted,  that  I  don't 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  151 

think  of  what  that  stream  was,  away  back  up  yonder 
in  the  mountains.  I  never  behold  such  a  stream 
without  a  sigh  and  a  wish  that  somehow  I  could 
remove  the  contaminating  influences  that  have 
made  it  what  it  is." 

She  looked  straight  into  the  Governor's  eyes  and 
he  read  the  imagery  of  her  words  aright. 

"A  muddy  stream  may  be  powerful,"  she  con- 
tinued. "Circumstances  may  make  it  very  power- 
ful. It  may  even  be  very  useful,  in  its  way.  But 
it  is  no  longer  beautiful,  Governor,  because  it  is  no 
longer  pure." 

He  tried  to  speak,  but,  though  his  lips  moved,  no 
sound  came  from  them.  It  seemed  as  if  a  giant  hand 
had  tightly  gripped  his  throat.  When  at  last  he  found 
his  voice  its  sound  startled  him.  "Yes,"  he  whis- 
pered, hoarsely,  "I  know.  I  understand.  It's  all 
true.  But  if  this  stream,  dark  and  muddy  as  it  is, 
could  be  made  as  clear  as  a  crystal  spring — could 
the  world  forget — could  you  forget — that  it  had 
once  been  polluted?" 

Big  Jim  came  lumbering  into  the  room.    "I  kain't 


152  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

find  dat  Cap'n  boy  no  whar,"  he  said.  "I  thought 
I  yere  him  an'  Miss  NelHe  a-laughin'  one  place  an' 
I  went  dar,  an'  den  I  yere  him  an'  her  summers 
else  an'  I  goes  an'  dey  ain't  dar.  I  looks  up  in  de 
moonlight  an'  dey  ain't  dar — an'  de  Lawd  only 
knows  whar  dey  is." 

The  negro  suddenly  discovered  that  he  had  not 
an  attentive  audience  and  stopped  short  in  abashed 
amazement.  Mrs.  Fairburn  detached  a  rose  from 
her  bodice  and  extended  it  toward  the  Governor. 

"Make  it  clear,"  she  said. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

NOT  QUITE  SO  MUDDY 

Roy  did  not  make  his  appearance  and  Governor 
Crance  volunteered  to  escort  his  fair  visitor  home. 
Jim  looked  after  them  as  they  walked  out.  Then 
he  laughed.  "Things  gwine  on  yere,  I  tell  yo'. 
Fust  thing  I  knows  I'll  hab  two  pa'r  o'  couples 
t'  watch.  An' — an' — a  white  lady  in  de  liberry." 
He  went  to  a  door  opening  out  into  the  garden, 
and  whistled.  Nellie  and  Roy  entered  cautiously. 
"An'  now,  if  you'll  'sense  me  fur  t'arin'  myself 
away,"  said  the  negro,  'T'll  jest  step  out  on  de 
po'ch  an'  ketch  a  few  flies  fur  de  alligator." 

Nellie  and  Roy  sat  down  beside  each  other.  They 
had  formulated  a  desperate  scheme.  The  fragrance 
of  the  flowers,  the  soft  air,  the  moonlight  had 
been  too  much  for  the  girl  to  withstand.  All  na- 
ture demanded  something  romantic  of  her.     "And 

153 


154  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

remember,"  she  said,  "it  must  be  at  midnight — 
precisely." 

"Yes,"  drawled  the  boy,  a  little  afraid  now  that 
he  was  out  of  the  moonlight,  "but  I  don't  see  the 
use  of  all  that." 

"Well,  how  else  could  it  be  done?"  she  pouted. 

"Why,  I'd  just  go  up  like  a  soldier  and  tell  him." 

"Oh,  no,  no;  that  would  never  do." 

"I  don't  know.  I  think  the  Governor  likes  me 
pretty  well,  and,  besides,  I  think  he's  a  little  soft 
on  mother.  I'd  just  as  soon  chance  it.  I'll  bet 
he'd  say  yes." 

"Of  course  he  would,  you  goose,  and  that  would 
spoil  it  all.  Anybody  could  be  married  like  that. 
If  I  can't  elope,  I  won't  be  married  at  all." 

The  boy  pondered  for  a  moment  or  two  and  then 
looked  up  brightly.  "If  we  ask  him,  maybe  he'll 
let  us  elope." 

She  was  angry  enough  to  have  boxed  his  ears. 
"Why,  you  ninny,  this  is  a  secret,"  she  cried,  indig- 
nantly. "We  mustn't  tell  anybody  about  it.  All 
elopements  are  secret.     Don't  you  remember  how 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  155 

they  did  in  the  'Lost  Heiress'?  Have  you  got  a 
black  horse?" 

"No,  but  I've  got  a  bay." 

"That  won't  do.    It's  got  to  be  black." 

"And  how  about  the  ladder?"  she  asked. 

"What  ladder?" 

"Why,  the  rope-ladder." 

"What  do  you  want  a  ladder  for?" 

"To  get  out  of  the  window.  How  do  you  sup- 
pose I'm  going  to  get  down?" 

"Why,  come  down  the  stairs,  can't  you?" 

She  gave  him  a  look  that  was  enough  to  have 
withered  him.  "No,  sir;  who  ever  heard  of  such 
a  thing?    Coming  down  the  stairs!" 

"Won't  any  sort  of  ladder  do?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  forgot!"  she  cried.  "We  can't  have  a 
horse.  Couldn't  take  Bulger  on  a  horse.  Or  the 
parrot,  or  the  cat,  or  the  alligator." 

"Great  Scott!    Can't  you  leave  'em  here?" 

"No,  sir;  do  you  think  I'd  leave  Bulger  behind?" 

It  was  time  for  the  boy  to  think  again.  "Well, 
if  everything's  got  to  go  along,"  he  growled,  "it 


156  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

would  take  an  express  wagon  to  run  away  with 
you." 

Jim,  outside,  gave  a  warning  whistle.  A  mo- 
ment later  the  negro  poked  his  head  into  the  room. 
"Coast  ain't  clear  now,  Miss  Nellie.  Man-o-wah's 
comin'." 

They  heard  the  Governor,  whistling  a  merry  tune. 
Nellie  and  Roy  hastily  took  seats  on  opposite  sides 
of  the  room.  The  Governor  came  in  briskly. 
"Captain,  your  mother  wants  you,"  he  said. 

Roy  got  up  awkwardly  and  stood  for  a  moment  as 
if  he  felt  it  incumbent  upon  himself  to  say  some- 
thing. But  nothing  came  into  his  mind,  so  he 
stood,  looking  hopelessly  at  the  girl. 

"I'll  just  run  over  with  him/'  she  said.  "I  think 
he's  afraid  to  go  alone." 

"What,  and  a  soldier!"  exclaimed  the  Governor, 
with  mock  earnestness.  Then  the  young  fellow 
found  his  tongue.  "I  am  not  afraid  to  go  any- 
where," he  declaied,  straightening  up  stiffly. 

The  Governor  saluted.     "Good-night,  Captain." 

Nellie  went  with  Roy  to  the  door,  whispered  to 
him  and  threw  him  a  kiss  as  he  passed  out. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  157 

"Pigeons!"  chuckled  the  Governor,  "I  suppose 
they  think  I'm  bhnd."  NelHe  turned  toward  him. 
"In  your  wonderful  collection  of  pets,  I  suppose 
you  are  growing  to  like  the  biped  best  of  all,  aren't 
you?"  he  asked.  She  bashfully  nodded  her  head 
iind  the  Governor  continued:  "Well,  that's  right. 
I  rather  like  that  parrot  myself." 

"Parrot!"  she  exclaimed,  indignantly. 

"Why,  certainly.  You  haven't  added  any  other 
two-legged  freak  to  your  aggregation,  have  you?" 

"N— no,  sir." 

''Well,  I  should  hope  not.  The  house  is  getting 
so  cluttered  up  with  your  pets  that  I  guess  I'll  have 
to  call  a  halt  now.  Whenever  you  want  to  add  an- 
other one  to  your  outfit,  you'll  have  to  get  my  con- 
sent first.    Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Biped,  quadruped  or  centipede.'* 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Is  it  a  bargain?  Good!  Now,  then,  how'd  you 
like  to  be  my  secretary,  eh?" 

"Goody!    May  I?" 


158  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"If  you  promise  to  be  real  good  and  not  bother 
me  by  asking  questions  about  things  that  don't 
concern  you,  I'll  let  you  help  me  with  my  letters  up 
in  the  library." 

With  an  exclamation  of  delight  Nellie  darted 
toward  the  stairway  and  was  halfway  up  to  the 
landing  before  the  Governor  suddenly  recollected 
that  the  library  already  contained  a  visitor. 
"NelHe!"  he  shouted.  She  stopped  in  amazement. 
"Here!  Come  down,  I  can't  let  you  help  me  to- 
night. Some  other  time.  There!  Run  along  now. 
The  alligator  may  need  a  few  more  flies  before  bed- 
time." 

Though  somewhat  disappointed,  the  girl  needed 
no  second  bidding,  as  she  was  eager  to  muse  alone 
over  the  ripening  of  her  own  romantic  schemes. 
The  Carpetbagger  waited  till  she  had  shut  the  door; 
then  he  started  up  the  stairs.  Suddenly  he  saw  the 
rose,  on  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  He  halted.  "Jim." 
he  called,  stepping  down  into  the  room.  The  negro, 
never  far  off,  appeared  in  an  instant.  "Ask  the 
lady  in  the  library  to  come  down."    He  buttoned  his 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  159 

coat  tightly  and  stood,  waiting-.  Lucy  came  trip- 
ping down  the  stairs,  ahead  of  Jim. 

"Is  my  hair  gray?"  she  asked,  banteringly. 
"Well,  you'll  have  to  make  up  for  lost  time." 

The  Governor  was  cool.  "I  haven't  lost  any 
time,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  have.  I've  read  all  the  books  in  your  old 
library." 

"Then  you  haven't  lost  time,"  he  replied. 
"You've  improved  it." 

"Well,  let's  not  lose  any  now,"  she  said.  "How 
about  that  bill?" 

"What  bill?" 

"Why,  the  Midland." 

He  looked  at  her  steadily.  "I  can't  recall  any 
such  bill — to-night,"  he  said. 

The  lobbyist  started.  "Ah!"  she  exclaimed,  evi- 
dently surprised.  "Will  your  memory  be  better 
to-morrow?" 

"I'm  afraid  not.  My  memory  seems  to  be  getting 
worse  every  day." 

"Governor,  you  can't  forget  that  bill.  If  you  do, 
others  will  forget  the  election." 


160  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"That's  all  right.  The  election  will  have  to  take 
care  of  itself." 

"But  will  it  take  care  of  you?" 

'T  don't  know.    And  I  don't  care." 

"Governor,  do  you  know  what  this  means?"  Now 
there  was  genuine  alarm  in  her  voice. 

"Yes,"  slowly  replied  the  Carpetbagger.  "I  do. 
It  means  that  the  next  man  who  serves  as  Governor 
of  the  State  of  Mississippi  is  going  to  be  elected 
Governor." 

She  gave  her  head  a  contemptuous  toss.  "Sui- 
cide! Are  you  going  to  throw  over  all  your 
friends?" 

"Friends?    What  friends?" 

"Why,  your  political  friends." 

"There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  political  friend." 

She  tossed  her  head  again.  "Then  if  there  are 
no  political  friends  there  can  be  no  political  obliga- 
tions.   Remember  that." 

"I'll  not  forget  it.  Shall  I  order  my  carriage  for 
you?" 

"No,  thank  you,  I  prefer  to  go  as  I  came."    She 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  161 

walked  off  full  of  anger,  but  thought  better  of  it 
and  at  the  door  turned  to  him.  "Let  us  part  as 
friends.  Good-night."  She  held  forth  her  hand, 
hoping  that  by  a  touch  she  might  win  him  back. 
But  her  magnetism  failed  her  this  time,  for  he 
grasped  her  hand  as  he  would  have  taken  the  hand 
of  a  man.  "Good-night,"  she  repeated.  "Good- 
bye," said  the  Governor,  with  significant  emphasis. 
She  went  out.  Walking  slowly  about  the  room,  he 
looked  down  at  the  rose  on  his  lapel. 

"I  don't  belieVe  our  stream  is  quite  so  muddy  as 
it  was,"  he  mused. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

NOTHING  BUT  ACTION  NOW 

The  Governor  was  walking  slowly  up  and  down 
the  room,  with  an  occasional  glance  at  the  rose, 
when  Major  Reynolds'  card  was  brought  in.  His 
step  had  come  hard  upon  the  floor  of  the  portico, 
and  the  negro's  eyes  were  wide  with  apprehension. 
''Show  him  in,"  said  the  Governor,  with  another 
glance  at  the  rose,  resuming  his  walk.  He  heard 
the  Major  enter  and  turned  to  face  him. 

"Good  evening,  sir,"  said  the  Governor.  "Will 
you  sit  down?" 

"Sir,"  the  Major  began,  with  his  head  high  and 
his  breast  full,  "in  contravention  of  all  usages  be- 
tween gentlemen,  I  am  here  at  .your  request." 

"Yes,  I  sent  for  you.  We  are  both  too  old  to — 
make  fools  of  ourselves.    Let's  talk  this  thing  over." 

"Sir,"  replied  the  Major,  with  terrible  earnest- 
ness, "when  you  arrest  my  father  and  send  him 

162 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  163 

and  my  old  mother  to  jail,  the  matter  has  gone 
beyond  talk  and  beyond  explanation.  Nothing 
but  action  now!" 

"But,  Major,  do  you  think  for  a  moment  that  I 
caused  your  father's — " 

"Any  man  who  would  be  guilty  of  such  an  out- 
rage would  not  hesitate  to  deny  it.  In  your  office 
I  summoned  you  to  meet  the  voters  of  this  com- 
monwealth at  the  polls.  In  this  affair  you  meet 
me — you  must  do  it." 

*'But  wait  a  moment.  Major.  Do  you  know 
what  my  position  in  this  matter  is?" 

"I  do  not  care  what  your  position  is.  I  "under- 
stand my  duty  as  a  man  of  honor,  and  I  know  that 
you  are  a  coward  as  well  as  a  scoundrel.  You 
shall  not  dodge  this  issue  if  I  have  to  horse-whip 
you  publicly  through  the  streets." 

The  old  Carpetbagger  recoiled  as  if  he  had  been 
stung.  He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 
There  was  a  light  in  his  eye  such  as  no  one  ever  had 
seen  there  before.  "Stop!"  he  cried,  his  long,  bony 
forefinger  pointing  like  a  pistol   straight   at   the 


164  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

Major's  face.  "Hold  on,  nov/!  I've  got  a  bullet 
here,"  he  said,  tapping  his  left  shoulder.  "Some 
of  you  fellows  gave  it  to  me  at  Antietam.  Maybe 
you  did  it — I  don't  know.  But  I  wasn't  dodging 
then  and  I  haven't  dodged  since  then."  He  stopped 
for  a  moment  and  then  added,  with  evident  effort 
to  master  his  feelings:  "Four  years  of  fighting 
v/as  enough  for  me.  It  ought  to  have  been  enough 
for  you.    Don't  be  a  fool." 

The  Major  stood  stern  and  unmoved.  He  was 
not  thinking  of  the  war  or  its  consequences,  but  of 
the  fact  that  an  outrage  had  been  put  upon  his 
father  and  his  mother.  The  cold  light  of  a  sneer 
fell  across  his  grim  countenance.  "Sir,"  he  said, 
"even  a  coward  is  safe  in  his  own  house.  But  to- 
morrow, whenever  and  wherever  I  meet  you,  I  will 
shoot  you  as  I  would  a  rabid  cur.  Take  your  pistol 
with  you.    I  will  make  you  use  it." 

"Do  you  mean  that  I  must  choose  between  a  duel 
and  assassination?"  calmly  inquired  the  Governor. 

"Call  it  what  you  like,"  hotly  rejoined  the  South- 
erner.   '"^You  know  what  I  mean." 

"I  will  fight." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  165 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  Major,  with  brightening 
countenance. 

"Let  me  tell  you,"  continued  the  Carpetbagger, 
"that  this  business  has  no  place  in  modern  civiliza- 
tion. It  belongs  to  the  seventeenth  century.  But 
if  there  be  no  alternative — if  it  must  come — if  \\q 
must  go  back  into  romance — let's  go  'way  back. 
Meet  me  at  midnight — alone — no  seconds — in  tlie 
garden  out  there  under  the  magnolias.  I'll  be  there 
with  an  extra  saber  at  your  disposal.  I  don't  give 
that,"  he  added,  snapping  his  fingers,  "for  your 
code  or  your  customs;  but  I'll  meet  you — man  to 
man." 

The  Major  smiled.  "Thank  you,"  he  said.  "I 
will  be  there.  Until  then,  sir,  I  bid  you  good- 
night." He  bov/ed  in  a  stately  fashion,  stepped  to 
the  door,  turned,  bowed  again  and  passed  out. 

The  Governor  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 
"It  had  to  come,"  he  mused.  And  he  seemed 
relieved  that  some  sort  of  settlement  had  at  last 
been  reached.  It  had  been  an  eventful  evening, 
an  evening  of  stern  decision  and  almost  of  tender- 


166  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

ness,  an  evening  scented  by  the  sweet  odor  of  a 
rose.  He  touched  a  bell.  "J™/'  ^^  said,  "lock  up 
for  the  night."  The  negro  began  to  close  the  doors 
and  windows  and  to  draw  the  curtains.  Nellie 
looked  into  the  room,  timidly. 

"May  I  come  in?"  she  asked.  The  Governor  held 
out  his  arms  toward  her.  "What  was  all  that  loud 
talking?"  she  went  on,  looking  with  strange  inquiry 
at  her  father.  "I  have  been  waiting  ever  so  long 
for  my  good-night  kiss.  You  weren't  going  to  for- 
get me  to-night,  were  you?" 

The  Governor  answered  with  an  emotional  note 
of  tenderness  in  his  voice.  "No,  little  one,  I  could 
not  forget  you — to-night."  He  kissed  her  fondly 
and,  going  with  her  to  the  door,  kissed  her  again. 
"Good-night,  little  one." 

"Mus'  I  put  out  all  de  lights,  sah?"  said  Jim. 

"Except  in  the  library.  I  have  some  writing  to 
do.     But  don't  wait  for  me.     Go  to  bed." 

"Yas,  sah,"  said  the  negro.    "Good-night,  sah." 

"Jim!" 

"Yas,  sah." 

"Come  here." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  167 

Drawing  a  roll  of  bills  from  his  pocket,  the  Car- 
petbagger pressed  it  into  the  negro's  hand.  "J^"^*" 
he  said,  "you're  a  good  fellow.  Keep  it — it's 
yours."  The  darkey  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 
Too  much  overcome  to  say  anything  he  drooped, 
bowed  his  head  and  went  out,  taking  a  lamp  with 
him.  The  room  was  dark.  The  Governor  went  to 
a  window  and  drew  aside  the  curtains.  The  full 
moon,  sentiment's  searchlight,  threw  a  flood  of  sil- 
very whiteness  upon  him  as  he  looked  out  toward 
the  magnolias  in  the  garden.  Slowly  he  bowed  his 
head  and  his  lips  touched  the  flower  upon  his  coat. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   WHIPPOORWILL's   CALL 

Two  hours  is  scant  time  to  prepare  for  death, 
but  Governor  Crance  found  it  too  long.  His  busi- 
ness affairs  required  no  settlement.  Exposed  as  he 
had  long  been  to  the  danger  of  assassination,  he 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  guard  against  any  emer- 
gency. There  were  a  few  letters  to  be  written — that 
was  all. 

Above  his  desk  in  the  library  tv/o  cavalry  sabers 
hung  crossed  upon  the  wall.  One  of  them  he  had 
carried  through  the  war;  the  other  he  had  wrenched 
from  the  stiffening  clutch  of  a  fallen  foe  at  An- 
tietam.  Both  had  done  bloody  service.  For  the 
first  time  since  they  had  been  hung  up  as  orna- 
mental trophies,  he  took  the  weapons  down  and 
looked  them  over.  Of  dififerent  workmanship,  they 
were  equal  in  length,  in  weight  and  in  sharpness. 

"I  don't  know  how  this  will  go  on  the  ground," 

168 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  169 

he  mused,  as  he  again  grasped  the  old  familiar  hilt. 
"It  used  to  be  all  right  in  the  saddle — a  dash  and 
a  slash  and  it  was  over  with.  But  this  is  different. 
Still,  it  beats  a  pistol.  They  say  he  is  the  best  shot 
in  the  South  and  I  couldn't  hit  the  side  of  a  barn." 

The  house  was  still.  From  the  negro  quarters, 
faint  and  far,  floated  snatches  of  plantation  melodies 
and  the  thrumming  of  a  banjo.  A  tiny  clock  upon 
the  mantel  startled  the  Governor  by  chiming  the 
hour  of  eleven. 

"An  hour  yet,"  he  muttered.  "It's  bad  enough 
to  hunt  for  trouble,  but  I  believe  it  is  worse  to  wait 
for  it.    I  can't  stay  here,  or  I'll  suffocate." 

With  the  sabers  under  his  arm  he  quietly  tiptoed 
down  the  stairway,  opened  a  window  and  stepped 
out  upon  the  broad  veranda.  It  was  a  glorious 
moonlit  night,  almost  as  light  as  day,  bright  and 
blue  and  balmy.  The  soft  air,  sweet  with  the  fra- 
grance of  magnolias  and  the  flov/ery  incense  of  . 
midsummer  bloom,  seemed  to  whisper,  "Peace  on 
earth,  good  will  to  men,"  and  its  message  went 
straight  to  his  heart. 


no  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"Why  should  a  man  be  shoved  back  into  the 
middle  ages  like  this?"  he  said,  half  savagely.  "I 
feel  as  if  I  were  trying  to  break  into  one  of  Walter 
Scott's  novels.  I  don't  want  to  kill  him  and  Missis- 
sippi can't  afford  to  lose  him,  I've  seen  enough  of 
blood — wasn't  cut  out  for  a  butcher  any  way.  But," 
he  added,  firmly,  "it's  better  to  be  the  butcher  than 
the  beef.  If  a  corpse  has  got  to  be  furnished  it  won't 
be  mine  if  I  can  help  it." 

A  dry  twig  snapped  beneath  his  foot  with  a  re- 
port like  a  pistol  and  a  startled  night  bird  fluttered 
among  the  bushes.  Saber  in  hand,  he  turned,  half 
expecting  to  face  a  foe;  but  it  was  the  instinct  of 
self-defense  rather  than  an  indication  of  nervous- 
ness, for  he  never  was  more  completely  master  of 
himself.  Indeed  he  marveled  at  his  own  coolness 
at  such  a  time  for,  try  as  he  might,  he  could  not 
convince  himself  of  the  seriousness  of  the  situation. 
Of  one  thing  he  felt  perfectly  sure — he  would  come 
out  all  right. 

*'Cards  alone  don't  count,"  he  had  often  said. 
"A  great  deal  depends  on  how  they  are  played. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  171 

In  a  crisis,  the  fellow  who  loses  his  head  loses  the 
game,  no  matter  what  he  has  in  his  hand." 

Looking  back  toward  the  gubernatorial  mansion, 
its  tall  columns  shining  white  in  the  moonlight,  like 
a  spectral  castle  framed  in  shadow,  he  was  surprised 
to  see  a  light  twinkling  from  one  of  the  upper  win- 
dows, Nellie's  room  or  the  library,  he  could  not  tell 
which.  "That's  queer,"  he  soliloquized.  "I  could 
have  sworn  I  put  out  that  light  a  few  minutes  ago. 
And  Nellie  has  been  in  dreamland  for  a  couple  of 
hours.    I  must  have  forgotten  and  left  it  burning." 

Near  the  center  of  a  little  grove  of  magnolias,  at 
the  lower  end  of  the  garden,  stood  a  great  live  oak, 
a  rough,  gnarled  giant,  whose  twisted  trunk  and 
sprawling  branches  had  often  been  explored  by 
Nellie  and  Roy  during  their  romping  expeditions. 
About  this  tree  there  was  an  open  space  of  green- 
sward, as  if  the  younger  trees  had  withdrawn  to  a 
respectful  distance  from  the  old  monarch  of  the 
garden  and  had  halted  to  form  a  guard  of  honor. 
Sharply  silhouetted  against  the  moon,  the  branches 
overhead  threw  upon  the  grass  fantastic  shadows, 
that  changed  with  every  breeze. 


172  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"There's  plenty  of  room  here,"  said  the  Governor, 
half  aloud,  as  he  looked  over  the  spot.  "I've  a 
good  half  hour  yet;  but  I  won't  keep  him  waiting. 
I've  always  found  that  the  best  v/ay  to  get  through 
a  bad  job  is  to  make  a  good  beginning." 

He  leaned  the  sabers  against  the  oak  and  sat 
down  upon  one  of  its  knotty  roots.  A  mimite  later, 
his  thoughts  played  truant  and  overleaped  the  stone 
wall  near  by.  The  widow!  Did  she  know?  She  was 
present  when  Capt.  Pointer  presented  the  Major's 
challenge.  Could  it  be  possible  that  her  womanly 
intuition  had  deserted  her  upon  that  occasion,  so 
that  she  suspected  nothing?  If  she  knev/  the  con- 
tents of  the  Captain's  missive  she  gave  no  sign. 
Maybe  she  did  not  care.  Perhaps,  even  now,  she 
might  be  closeted  v/ith  Major  Reynolds,  praying  for 
his  success  and  bidding  him  Godspeed.  Why  not? 
Had  she  not  been  the  Major's  friend  from  child- 
hood? Did  not  the  gossips  say  that  it  v/as  the 
Major  who  had  recently  induced  her  to  lay  aside 
the  sable  gowns  she  had  worn  for  years  as  a  tribute 
to  one  long  dead?   And  did  they  not  predict  that 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  173 

this  change  was  soon  to  be  followed  by  the  donning 
of  orange-blossoms  and  the  bridal  veil?  And  yet 
there  was  the  rose — her  rose — upon  his  coat  lapel! 

A  queer  whistle,  like  the  call  of  a  whippoorwill, 
among  the  trees  near  by,  ended  the  Governor's 
reverie  abruptly  and  brought  him  to  his  feet.  He 
listened  intently.  There  v/as  no  sound  save  the  soft 
soughing  of  the  wind  arhong  the  branches  overhead. 

"A  v/hippoorwill?"  he  ejaculated,  incredulously. 
"Down  here?  I  never  heard  one  here  before. 
Didn't  think  there  was  one  in  the  whole  state  of 
Mississippi."  He  picked  up  the  sabers.  The 
whistle  was  repeated.  This  time  there  could  be  no 
mistake — it  was  plainly  a  crude  imitation  of  the 
whippoorwill's  note,  but  no  one  whose  boyhood 
was  passed  upon  a  northern  farm  would  have  been 
deceived  by  it.  The  old  Carpetbagger  smiled. 
"That  sounds  to  me  more  like  love  than  war,"  he 
remarked,  as  he  stepped  back  among  the  dark 
magnolia  shadows  to  await  developments.  "I 
thought  so,"  he  added,  half  a  minute  later,  as  the 


174  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

boyish  figure  of  Roy  came  into  view  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  grassy  plot. 

By  halting  stages  the  young  "Indian  fighter,"  ad- 
vanced into  the  open,  whistling  repeatedly  and  lis- 
tening in  vain  for  an  answering  signal. 

"This  is  the  place,  all  right,"  he  exclaimed,  glanc- 
ing about  him  apprehensively,  as  if  afraid  of  the 
shadows.  "Now,  where  is  she?  'Tain't  right  to 
treat  a  fellow  like  this — whistling  around  in  the 
woods.  By  jingo!  Maybe  she  is  playing  a  trick 
on  me  and  expects  me  to  stay  out  here  all  night! 
If  I  thought  she  was,  I'd  never  speak  to  her  again 
as  long  as  I  live!" 

His  courage  plainly  was  fast  oozing  out  at  his 
finger  tips  and  he  was  about  to  beat  an  ignominious 
retreat.  A  low  whippoorwill  whistle  near  by 
brought  him  to  a  sudden  halt.  "There  she  is  now!" 
he  cried,  darting  forward.  The  Governor  stepped 
out  into  the  moonlight. 

"Great  Scott!  It's  the  old  man!"  gasped  Roy, 
jumping  behind  the  oak.  "And  he's  got  a  sword, 
too."     He  peered  around  the  trunk,  cautiously. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  175 

"Good  Lord!  He's  got  two  swords!"  A  moment 
later  he  had  clambered  hastily  up  the  tree  and 
snugly  ensconced  himself  among  the  leafy  branches. 
Below  him  stood  a  tall  figure  with  a  glittering  saber 
in  either  hand. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


MOVING  THE  MENAGERIE 


The  unexpected  advent  of  Roy  upon  the  scene 
immediately  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs  and 
proved  a  welcome  diversion  for  the  Governor, 
whose  sides  shook  with  suppressed  laughter  as  he 
saw  the  young  lover's  frantic  attempt  to  avoid  de- 
tection. The  impending  duel  was  forgotten  in- 
stantly; tragedy  gave  way  to  comedy. 

"I'm  sorry  I  scared  that  bird  away,"  he  remarked 
aloud,  for  the  youngster's  benefit.  "Whippoorwills 
are  so  scarce  down  here,  he  would  have  been  a  fine 
addition  to  Nellie's  pets."  He  paused  to  whistle 
the  whippoorwill  call  softly  a  few  times.  "Too 
bad!"  he  continued.  "He's  gone.  I'd  like  to  catch 
him.  If  we  can't  do  that,  I'll  shoot  him  and  have 
him  stuffed."  Above  him,  his  face  blanched  with 
terror,  Roy  hugged  the  oak  as  tightly  as  its  own 
bark.    Suddenly,  upon  the  still  night  air,  there  came 

176 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  177 

an  answering  call,  a  weak,  uncertain,  tremulous 
whippoorwill  note  from  the  other  end  of  the  garden. 

"Hello!  He's  over  there  now!"  exclaimed  the 
Governor,  his  eyes  twinkling  with  humor.  "Won- 
der if  I  can't  call  him  back."  Again  and  again  he 
whistled.  The  answering  call  grew  near  and  nearer. 
A  few  minutes  later,  a  white  dress  stood  out  in  bold 
relief  among  the  dark  shadows  of  the  magnolias  and 
Nellie  timidly  stepped  into  the  moonlight. 

The  Carpetbagger  looked  at  her  and  chuckled 
with  amusement.  Her  arms  were  filled  with  band- 
boxes, parcels  and  packages.  In  one  hand,  she  car- 
ried a  green  parrot  in  a  cage;  in  the  other,  a  long, 
perforated  box,  the  temporary  home  of  a  pet  alli- 
gator. At  her  heels  trotted  the  big,  white  bulldog, 
Bulger.  She  whistled  softly;  an  answer  came  from 
behind  the  oak.  "Ah!  There  you  are!"  she  criedj 
excitedly,  hurrying  forward.  The  Governor  put 
down  his  sabers  and  advanced  to  meet  her.  "Yes," 
he  replied,  quietly.  There  was  a  scream  of  con- 
sternation; the  bird-cage,  boxes  and  packages  were 
dropped  in  indiscriminate  confusion  and  Bulger 
added  to  the  excitement  by  barking  furiously. 


178  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"You've — you've  dropped  something,  I  think," 
remarked  the  Governor,  kindly. 

The  frightened  child  made  no  reply. 

"Moving?"  he  asked,  quizzically. 

"N— no,  sir." 

"Um!    What  are  you  doing?" 

"I— I— don't  know,  sir." 

"You  don't  know!"  exclaimed  the  Carpetbagger, 
in  mock  astonishment.  "That's  bad.  That's 
mighty  bad.  A  girl  v/ho  goes  out  alone  at  this  time 
of  night  ought  to  know  what  she  is  doing." 

A  soft,  round  arm  went  up  across  Nellie's  eyes  and 
she  began  to  cry  softly.  "I — I — wasn't  going  very 
far,"  she  sobbed;  ''and  I  was  coming  right  back." 

"Well,  don't  you  think  you  have  gone  far 
enough  now?    Aren't  you  about  ready  to  go  back?" 

A  choking  sob  was  the  only  answer.  The  old 
man  softened.  There  was  a  kindly  note  of  serious- 
ness in  his  voice  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder 
and  said:  "Little  one,  it's  all  right.  Don't  cry. 
Everything  is  all  right.  You've  always  trusted  me; 
trust  me  now.    Will  you?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  179 

She  was  in  his  arms  in  an  instant,  weeping  as  if 
her  heart  would  break.  "There,  there,  there,"  he 
said,  soothingly,  as  he  patted  her  blonde  locks. 
"The  heart  of  a  young  girl  is  not  a  safe  guide  to 
the  maze  of  matrimony.  The  flutterings  of  your 
own  little  heart  have  filled  your  head  with  romantic 
nonsense.  V/ait.  When  you  are  a  little  older  your 
head  and  your  heart  will  lead  you  aright.  You 
mustn't  do  this,  my  child.  There  is  no  romance  in 
dishonor,  and  the  path  you  have  chosen  to-night 
might  lead  you  there." 

He  paused.  The  child  nestling  within  his  arms 
had  sobbed  herself  into  submission.  *T  was  coming 
right  back,"  she  repeated,  humbly. 

"My  poor,  motherless  girl!"  he  continued. 
"How  could  you  know?  God  grant  you  may  be 
happy  in  a  good  man's  love!  But  the  man  who 
would  be  your  husband  must  lead  you  to  the  altar, 
not  wait  for  you  in  the  dark." 

Was  it  the  wind  that  sighed  so  deeply  among 
the  branches  overhead? 

"Now,  then,"  continued  the  Carpetbagger,  bright- 


180  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

ening,  "go  back.  Here's  your  menagerie."  He 
handed  her  the  parrot  and  the  ahigator  as  he  spoke 
and  began  loading  her  arms  with  parcels. 

''But  no  more  of  this.    Understand?" 

"No,  sir,"  was  the  ready  response.  "Never!  I'll 
never  speak  to  that  boy  again  as  long  as  I  live.  He 
didn't  come,  anyway!" 

The  wind  no  longer  sighed  among  the  oak 
leaves — it  groaned. 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  say  that,"  laughed  the  Governor. 
"I  wouldn't  say  that.  Good-night."  He  turned 
her  face  toward  him  in  the  moonlight  and  kissed 
her  v/armly,  tenderly,  reverently.  "Good-night,  my 
child.    Good-night  and  pleasant  dreams." 

He  watched  her  until  she  disappeared  from  view. 
Then  he  picked  up  the  sabers.  "Captain,"  he  said, 
quietly,  "come  down." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  and  then  a  scared 
voice  amid  the  overhanging  branches  tremulously 
asked: 

"Is— is  it  all  right?" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  181 

"I  guess  SO,"  cheerily  replied  the  Governor. 
"What  do  you  want  up  there,  anyway?" 

"I  want — to  come  down." 

The  Carpetbagger  laughed.  "Is  that  why  you 
went  up?"  he  asked. 

"I  didn't  know  but  it  might  be  a  little  healthier 
for  me  up  here." 

"Are  you  hunting  Indians,  to-night,  Cap?" 

"No — my  commission  hasn't  got  here  yet." 

"Come  down."  Roy  did  so,  rather  sheepishly. 
The  Carpetbagger  suddenly  stepped  out  into  the 
moonlight  and  looked  at  his  watch.  "Roy,"  he  said, 
hurriedly,  "I  like  you.  I  want  you  to  do  what  is 
right.    Will  you?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Good!" 

"On  the  word  of  a  gentleman.  Governor — " 

"And  a  soldier?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  old  man  extended  his  hand  and  Roy  grasped 
it  warmly. 

"If  you  love  Nellie  you  can  afford  to  wait  for  her, 
can't  you?" 


182  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"How  long?" 

"Till  your  mother  gives  her  consent." 

"Will  you  give  yours  then?" 

"Mine  may  not  be  necessary."  The  Governor 
glanced  about  him.  'T  am  willing  to  leave  the 
matter  entirely  in  her  hands.  Isn't  it  about  your 
bedtime?" 

"Governor,  you  are  a  trump!"  cried  Roy,  ex- 
citedly. "And  I  want  to  say  to  you,  sir,  that  I 
would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you." 

"Thank  you.     Good-night.     Go  to  bed." 

"Just  as  soon  as  she  says  'yes,'  Governor?" 

"Yes.    Good-night." 

"I'll  get  an  answer  from  her  inside  of  ten  minutes. 
Good-night.  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning.  Good- 
night." And  the  excited  youngster  was  away  like 
a  shot.  A  dry  twig  snapped  among  the  magnolias 
near  by  and  the  Governor  turned  with  a  start.  The 
commanding  figure  of  Major  Reynolds  stepped  into 
view,   halted   and   gave   a   formal   military   salute. 

"You  are  punctual,  sir,"  he  said.    "I  thank  you." 


CHAPTER  XX 

A  BAD  WAY  TO  SPRINKLE  THE  LAWN 

It  had  been  a  day  of  unusual  excitement,  and  the 
evening  developed  so  many  stirring  incidents  that 
Mrs.  Fairburn  found  it  impossible  to  think  of  sleep. 
Long  after  Governor  Crance  had  left  her  at  her 
own  door  and  had  bidden  her  good-night,  she  sat 
in  an  easy  chair,  upon  the  broad  veranda,  rapt  in 
meditation.  It  was  a  perfect  midsummer  night  and 
her  thoughts  were  busy  with  the  murder  of  Wiley 
Jones,  the  arrest  of  Old  John  Reynolds,  the  devotion 
of  his  aged  wife  and  the  probable  efifect  of  their  im- 
prisonment upon  the  Major's  canvass.  She  had 
seen  the  awakening  of  a  new  and  generous  impulse 
in  the  Governor  and  wondered  whither  it  would 
lead.  In  the  midst  of  her  reflections,  one  fact  con- 
tinually obtruded  itself — the  visit  of  Captain  Pointer. 
She  knew  that  he  was  a  trusted  lieutenant  of  Major 
Reynolds  and  one  of  the  confidential  advisers  of  his 

183 


184  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

campaign.  What  business  could  he  have  with  his 
leader's  arch  enemy? 

As  the  night  wore  on,  an  irresistible  feeling  of 
unrest  seized  her,  a  vague  sense  of  impending 
danger,  a  presentiment  of  approaching  peril.  Again 
and  again,  she  paced  up  and  down  the  long  portico, 
occasionally  stopping  to  lean  against  its  stately  pil- 
lars, intent  to  catch  any  unusual  sight  or  sound. 
Far  over  in  the  town,  the  big  bell  of  a  church  steeple 
tolled  the  hour  of  midnight.  As  its  last  note  died 
away,  her  quick  eye  detected  a  dark  figure  moving 
among  the  shadows  of  the  garden.  Swiftly  it  drew 
nearer,  and  a  few  moments  later  she  was  astonished 
to  recognize  the  familiar  features  of  Roy.  As  he 
sprang  up  the  steps  she  confronted  him.  The  "sol- 
dier" uttered  a  cry  of  surprise  and  sank  into  a  chair 
in  speechless  confusion, 

"What's  tlie  matter?"  she  anxiously  inquired. 
"What  has  happened?    Where  have  you  been?" 

''I — I  want  to  get  married," gasped  the  youngster. 

"What!" 

"The  Governor  is  willing — whenever  you  say  so." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  185 

She  caught  him  by  the  arm  and  turned  him  about 
sharply  so  that  the  moonhght  fell  full  upon  his  face. 

"Are  you  asleep?"  she  demanded,  giving  him  a 
gentle  shake.  "Are  you  dreaming?  Where  have 
you  been?" 

He  motioned  helplessly  toward  the  Governor's 
garden.    "Over  there,"  he  said,  laconically. 

"Over  where?" 

"In — in  the  garden.  He's  given  his  consent — as 
soon  as  you  say  so." 

"Who  has?" 

"The  Governor." 

"The  Governor?    Governor  Crance?" 

Roy  nodded  vigorously.  "I  just  left  him  and  he 
says  it's  all  right." 

"He  says  what's  all  right?  Where  did  you  see 
him?" 

"Over  there,"  making  a  comprehensive  sweep 
with  his  arm  toward  the  neighboring  grounds. 

"At  this  time  of  night?" 

Roy  nodded. 

"What  were  you  doing  there?" 


186  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

The  young  "soldier"  maintained  a  discreet  si- 
lence. 

"What  was  the  Governor  doing?" 

"Nothing." 

"Nothing?"  she  echoed.  "At  this  time  of  night?" 
Suddenly  she  grasped  the  boy's  arm  tightly.  "Was 
he  alone?"  she  demanded.  ''Did  you  see  anyone 
else?    Was  he  waiting  for  somebody?" 

Roy  nodded,  bashfully.  "He  was  waiting  for  me, 
I  guess,"  he  said.  "Anyway,  he  had  a  couple  of 
swords." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  threw  over  her  head  the  light  wrap 
she  had  worn  about  her  shoulders.  "Quick!"  she 
cried.    "Show  me  the  way.    I'll  follow  you." 

When  Governor  Crance  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  Major  Reynolds  he  actually  experienced  a  feel- 
ing of  relief.  He  was  glad  that  at  last  the  high 
pressure  period  of  suspense  was  to  be  broken.  With 
a  courteous  salutation  he  threw  the  two  sabers  upon 
the  ground.  "Take  your  pick,"  he  said.  "I  don't 
think  you'll  find  much  difference  between  them." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  187 

The  Major  drew  off  his  gloves  and  carefully  laid 
them  down  with  his  hat.  Then  he  removed  his 
coat,  folded  it  neatly,  and  picked  up  one  of  the 
weapons.  The  Carpetbagger  carelessly  threw  aside 
his  hat  and  coat  and  began  to  roll  up  his  shirt 
sleeves, 

"This  is  a  bad  way,  Major,  to  sprinkle  the  lawn," 
he  remarked,  grimly,  as  he  seized  the  remaining 
saber. 

"I  haven't  come  here,  sir,  to  talk,"  said  the  Major. 

"Well,  I  have,"  responded  the  Governor,  the 
point  of  his  weapon  resting  upon  the  greensward. 
"I  want  to  tell  you  something.  I  didn't  seek  this 
thing.  You  have  forced  it  on  me.  If  you  insist  on 
going  ahead  with  it  now,  I'm  going  to  kill  you." 

The  Major  smiled. 

"And  I'm  going  to  kill  you,"  continued  the  Car- 
petbagger, "not  because  I  want  to,  but  because  I've 
got  to." 

The  Major's  saber  cut  a  glistening  circle  in  the 
moonlight  as  he  gave  a  military  salute  with  it. 
"Take  your  position,  sir,"  he  said.    A  moment  later 


188  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

there  was  a  sharp  flash  of  fire  as  the  tv/o  weapons 
met  in  midair  with  a  clang  that  re-echoed  through 
the  little  grove.  The  two  men  were  not  equally 
matched.  In  point  of  physical  strength  Major  Rey- 
nolds outclassed  his  antagonist,  although  the  latter 
had  more  agility  and  greater  nervous  force.  No 
time  was  lost  in  petty  preliminaries.  The  Major 
went  at  his  work  as  if  he  were  in  a  hurry  to  get 
through  a  disagreeable  task,  and  the  Governor's 
saber  seemed  as  eager  as  his  own.  Though  the 
Carpetbagger  repeatedly  broke  ground  and  gave 
way  before  the  superior  strength  of  his  adversary  his 
shiftiness  made  him  a  dangerous  antagonist  and  the 
Major  frequently  fought  upon  the  defensive.  Not 
a  word  was  spoken  and  no  sound  broke  the  stillness 
of  the  hour  save  the  swish  of  the  circling  blades 
and  the  clang  of  opposing  steel.  Suddenly  a  wom- 
an's startled  cry  rang  out,  there  was  a  rustle  of 
silken  skirts  among  the  magnolias  and  Mrs.  Fair- 
burn  ran  toward  the  duellists.  Straight  between 
them  she  rushed,  her  white  hands  upraised  as  if  to 
part  the  angry  weapons.    The  two  men  recoiled  in- 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  189 

stinctively;  she  seemed  to  throw  them  apart  as  a 
strong  man  might  separate  two  street  urchins  en- 
gaged at  fisticuffs. 

"Gentlemen!"  she  cried.  It  was  both  a  command 
and  an  entreaty.    "Put  up  your  swords!" 

Neither  man  moved. 

"You  may  be  enemies  of  each  other.  You  are 
both  friends  of  mine.    Put  up  your  swords." 

There  was  no  answer  save  the  soft  soughing  of 
the  wind  among  the  trees. 

"Were  not  four  years  of  this  enough?"  she  con- 
tinued. "Is  this  soil  still  thirsty  for  blood?  Have 
you  forgotten  that  peace  has  come?  Governor,  you 
are  a  man  of  sober  judgment.  I  am  sure  that  you 
did  not  seek  this  of  your  own  accord;  I  am  certain 
that  an  appeal  to  your  reason  will  lead  you  out  of  it. 
Put  up  your  sword." 

The  Carpetbagger  glanced  at  his  antagonist,  but 
he  saw  in  those  cold  gray  eyes  nothing  but  impla- 
cable hatred. 

"Major,"  pleaded  the  woman  between  them, 
"you  may  regard  this  man  as  a  political  enemy;  but 


190  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

if  you  had  seen  what  I  saw  to-night,  you  would  es- 
teem him  as  your  personal  friend.  As  soon  as  he 
learned  of  the  indignity  that  had  been  put  upon 
your  father  and  your  old  mother,  he  ordered  their 
release,  and,  even  against  your  father's  protest,  sent 
them  home  in  his  own  carriage,  and  ordered  them 
to  be  set  down  at  their  own  door.  This  was  not 
the  scheme  of  a  political  enemy.  Major,  but  the 
act  of  an  honorable,  compassionate  man." 

The  Southerner's  grasp  relaxed. 

"If  you  still  believe  that,  because  you  are  political 
antagonists,  you  must  be  personal  foes,"  she  added, 
'T  will  not  ask  you  to  shake  hands;  but,  gentle- 
men— " 

The  Major's  weapon  fell  upon  the  grass  at  the 
widow's  feet  with  the  Governor's  saber  across  it. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  BOY  AT  THE  SPRING 

No  account  of  the  duel,  to  be  blown  about  the 
streets  and  into  the  secluded  corners  of  private  life, 
came  to  the  active  gossips  of  the  town.  The  Major 
was  silent,  Pointer  was  a  Sphynx,  Governor  Crance 
held  the  secret,  and  the  discreet  widow  put  a  hush-r 
stamp  upon  the  lips  of  the  "Indian  fighter."  The 
penetrative  Willetts  knew  that  something  must  hav^ 
occurred,  but  he  could  get  no  farther  than  the 
threshold  of  it;  and  there  was  but  one  thoroughly 
disgusted  man  who  had,  either  remotely  or  other- 
wise, contributed  to  the  affair — the  farmer  who  had 
furnished  the  Major  with  horses.  Early  next  morn- 
ing he  sent  a  field  hand  to  the  railway  station  to  gCi 
a  daily  newspaper,  being  so  anxious  that  he  could 
not  wait  for  his  regular  budget,  the  weekly.  He 
even  strode  forth  from  his  unfinished  breakfast  to 
meet  the  man  on  the  road.     Seizing  the  paper  he 

191 


192  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

leaned  against  a  tree,  to  give  himself  more  comfort 
in  his  expected  enjoyment,  and  began  to  search 
eagerly  for  the  welcome  news  of  the  Carpetbagger's 
death.  His  eye  swept  column  after  column;  he 
shifted  his  position  and  continued  his  search ;  a  pain- 
ful look  settled  upon  his  face,  and  crumpling  the 
paper,  he  threw  it  upon  the  ground  and  stamped 
upon  it. 

"Dave,"  said  he,  "I  want  you  to  go  right  up  to 
town  this  minute  and  fetch  them  horses  back.  But 
come  to  the  house  first  with  me.  I  want  to  write 
a  letter  to  Reynolds." 

He  was  but  poorly  equipped  to  express  his  feel- 
ings with  a  pen,  but  his  daughter  was  abundantly 
able,  having  gone  through  a  school  taught  by  a 
maiden  lady  of  sour  aspect;  so  she  served  as  a  trans- 
mitter of  the  old  man's  wrath.  "Sir,"  he  began, 
with  instructions  to  make  the  word  heavy  and  in- 
sulting, "Sir,  when  a  man  tells  me  that  he  will  do 
a  thing  I  expect  him  to  do  it.  You  have  imposed 
on  me;  you  have  obtained  horses  under  false  pre- 
tenses.   And  I  want  to  say  that  a  man  who  would 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  193 

SO  work  on  my  confiding  nature  is  not  much  better 
than  a  Carpetbagger.  I  made  a  speech  in  youi: 
favor  at  the  barbecue  down  on  the  bayou.  I  said 
you  were  a  man  of  the  people,  our  redemption,  and 
so  on.  I  would  have  swum  a  river  to  vote  for  you, 
but  the  Lord  forbid  that  I  should  do  it  now.  You. 
send  me  them  horses  as  fast  as  you  can.  They 
have  never  been  known  to  balk,  but  there's  no 
telling  what  they  will  do  after  you  have  handled 
them.  Major,  I  know  your  father  and  I  could  not 
have  believed  it  of  you.  I  did  not  know  it  was  in 
your  blood  to  deceive  a  man  at  a  time  when  it  was 
easy  to  work  on  his  feelings.  This  is  all  I  have  got 
to  say,  or  ever  will  have  to  say  to  you.  Send  me 
them  horses." 

The  season  had  sobered  and  browned ;  the  flowers 
were  dead  and  the  leaves  on  the  fig-trees  in  the 
gardens  were  dusty.  The  town  was  drowsy  with 
the  heat,  and  many  of  the  well-to-do  folk  had  gone 
to  the  springs  in  the  hills,  but  the  legislature  was 
still  busy,  or  pretended  to  be,  grinding  out  new 
measures  and  repealing  older  ones.    The  season's 


194  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

first  bale  of  cotton  had  come  in — the  premature  ad- 
vance of  the  coming  crop,  picked  here  and  there  in 
the  fields — and  was  hauled  about  town  on  a  deco- 
rated wagon,  driven  by  a  negro  with  the  plume  of 
an  iron  weed  in  his  hat,  to  the  noise  of  a  bell,  vig- 
orously rung  by  a  boy  who  sat  at  the  tail  of  the 
vehicle.  This  was  done  every  year,  but  it  always 
was  an  important  event,  cotton  being  the  basis  of  all 
prosperity  and  the  fabric  of  antebellum  aristocracy. 
The  merchant,  hearing  the  bell,  rushed  to  his  door 
to  gaze  out;  the  lawyers  lounging  about  the  court- 
rooms left  their  musty  proceedings  to  look  from  the 
windows,  and  even  the  sprinkling  cart,  driven  by 
an  '^oflficial"  and  therefore  an  unaccommodating 
man,  turned  out  that  the  cotton  wagon  might  pass. 
The  election  was  drawing  near  and  the  wire- 
workers  were  busy.  News  was  daily  brought  in 
from  all  parts  of  the  state  and  every  one  looked 
forward  to  the  day  of  reckoning,  sure  to  come.  For 
a  time  after  the  afifair  beneath  the  magnolias  in  his 
garden,  the  Governor  kept  himself  more  at  home, 
not  that  he  was  apprehensive  of  unusual  danger, 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  195 

for  the  word  "fear"  had  been  omitted  from  the 
lexicon  of  his  youth  and  had  not  been  inserted  in 
the  unabridged  dictionary  of  his  poHtical  Hfe,  but 
because  he  appeared  more  than  ever  to  worry  under 
the  trials  of  office  and  the  annoyances  of  the  "log- 
rollers"  who  daily  beset  him.  Often  they  swarmed 
about  the  house,  knowing  or  feeling  that  his  time 
was  short,  and  therefore  hoping  to  push  their  selfish 
schemes  to  fruition  before  his  fall,  but  Jim  turned 
them  away  with  the  warning  to  stay  away,  as  the 
Governor  was  very  busy.  Occasionally  at  the  cool- 
ing end  of  the  day,  the  old  man  would  go  out  for  a 
quiet  walk,  choosing  a  way  that  led  into  the  coun- 
try. He  took  great  pleasure  in  looking  upon  the 
ripening  crops.  Sometimes,  preserving  a  strict  in- 
cognito, he  would  walk  beside  a  laborer,  going 
home  from  his  toil,  and  would  talk  to  him  as  one 
who  understood  and  sympathized.  Once  at  a 
spring  by  the  roadside,  he  came  upon  a  half-grown 
boy,  sitting  thoughtfully  upon  a  stone.  The  Gov- 
ernor sat  down  and  opened  up  a  conversation  with 
him. 

"Do  you  live  far  from  here?"  he  asked. 


196 


THE   CARPETBAGGER 


"Over  yonder,"  the  boy  answered,  rubbing  his 
sun-browned  cheek. 

"I  suppose  your  folks  are  all  interested  in  the 
coming  election?" 

"I  reckon  so,  but  I  don't  pay  much  attention  to 
it.  I'm  trying  to  learn  something,  so  I  won't  have 
to  dig  in  the  ground  all  my  lifetime." 

"Ah,"  said  the  Governor,  "that's  laudable." 

"It's  what?"  the  boy  asked.  The  Governor  re- 
peated the  word  and  the  youngster  seemed  to  make 
a  mental  note  of  it ;  it  had  evidently  struck  his  fancy 
as  a  bit  of  learning,  a  bit  of  something  that  might 
help  to  keep  him  from  digging  in  the  ground,  and 
he  repeated  it  over  and  over  to  himself.  After  a 
time,  under  the  Governor's  kindly  inquiry,  he  be- 
came communicative.  He  had  walked  into  the 
neighborhood,  he  said,  looking  for  work,  and  had 
engaged  himself  to  a  farmer.  He  hoped  to  get 
enough  money  to  take  him  through  school  during 
the  coming  winter.  His  main  trouble  was  that  he 
couldn't  get  the  books  he  needed;  there  were  no 
books  in  the  farmer's  house.    He  had  spent  his  last 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  197 

penny  for  a  worn  history  of  the  United  States,  wHich 
he  found  in  a  shop  in  the  city,  and  he  was  afraid 
that  he  had  gone  beyond  his  means. 

"How  much  does  the  farmer  pay  you?"  the  Gov- 
ernor inquired. 

The  boy  moved  about  uneasily  on  the  stone.  "I'm 
afraid  I  didn't  make  a  very  good  bargain,"  said  he. 
"I  agreed  to  work  a  while  and  then  let  him  fix  the 
price;  but  he  hasn't  said  anything  about  it,  and 
whenever  I  mention  it  he  always  says  'there  will  be 
time  enough  for  that'." 

"Where  are  you  from?"  the  Governor  asked. 

The  boy  waved  his  hand.  "From  away  off  yon- 
der." 

"Have  you  any  relatives  living?" 

"No,  sir;  my  mother  died  a  long  time  ago  and 
my  father  was  killed  in  the  army." 

It  was  of  little  use  to  ask  him  which  army.  His 
accent  was  of  the  South.  "In  what  command?"  the 
Governor  inquired. 

"Second  Alabama  Cavalry." 

The  Carpetbagger  started.    One  of  the  sabers  thai 


198  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

he  had  taken  out  into  the  moonhght  a  few  nights 
before  had  belonged  to  a  member  of  that  command. 
He  asked  no  more  questions,  but  somehow  he  fan- 
cied that  in  the  boy  there  was  a  resemblance  of  a 
man  whose  dead  hand  had  gripped  one  of  those 
swords.  He  looked  far  away,  at  the  dusk  of  even- 
ing, gathering  low  down  beneath  the  trees  in  the 
woods.  "If  you  had  money  enough  you  could  go 
away  and  find  a  better  place,  couldn't  you?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes,  sir;  but  it  won't  do  to  think  about  that." 

"I  take  you  to  be  honest?" 

"Honest?"  the  boy  repeated,  and  the  Governor 
knew  that  his  inquiry  was  answered.  "Yes,  sir,  I 
think  I  am.  Without  honesty  there  wouldn't  be 
much  need  for  learning  or  anything  else.  No,  sir; 
I  don't  want  anything  that  don't  belong  to  me." 

"My  boy,"  said  the  Governor,  "I  am  going  to 
help  you." 

"Will  you?"  he  asked,  brightening.  "Have  you 
got  any  work  for  me  to  do?" 

**No;  but  I  have  a  little  money  and  I  am  going 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  199 

to  give  it  to  you."  He  took  some  bank  notes  out  of 
his  pocket.  "Here's  forty  dollars  or  so.  Take  it; 
you  are  welcome  to  it."  The  boy  got  up,  stagger- 
ing, but  he  did  not  reach  forth  his  hand.  "Take  it. 
I  think  I  knew  your  father — maybe  not,  but  some- 
thing strikes  me  that  I  did.  Take  it;  it's  yours." 
The  child  did  not  move,  but  stood  gazing  at  him. 
"Take  it  and  go  North  where  work  is  more  re- 
spected. There  is  no  hope  for  a  community  where 
work  is  looked  down  upon."  The  Governor  held 
out  the  money  again,  but  still  the  boy  did  not  stir. 
He  seemed  to  be  afraid — afraid,  perhaps,  that  he 
was  dreaming  and  would  soon  awake  to  feel  the 
dread  ache  of  disappointment. 

"But  I  don't  know  you,  sir,"  he  finally  managed 
to  stammer,  "and  perhaps  it  wouldn't  be  right  for 
me  to—" 

"Nonsense,  my  child !  You  needn't  have  any  fear. 
It's  all  right.    I  am  the  Governor  of  this  state." 

The  boy  recoiled  as  if  he  had  received  a  blow  jn 
the  face.  The  glad  light  in  his  eyes  died  out.  With- 
out a  word  he  turned  around  and  walked  rapidly 
away. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  HIMSELF 

When  he  reached  home,  Jim  was  Hghting  the 
hanging  lamp  in  the  hall.  The  old  negro  shook  his 
head  dubiously.  It  was  not  often  that  he  ventured 
to  give  advice  to  his  master;  but  now  he  was  em- 
boldened to  offer  the  opinion  that  it  was  imprudent 
on  the  Governor's  part  to  walk  out  alone  and  to 
remain  so  long.  The  Carpetbagger  smiled  at  the 
negro's  caution.  "That's  all  right,  Jim,"  said  he. 
"A  man  can't  die  till  his  time  comes." 

"I  doan  know  'bout  dat,  sah,"  Jim  replied,  shov- 
ing the  lamp  up  as  high  as  he  could  reach  and  then 
steadying  the  swinging  chain.  "I  doan  know  'bout 
dat.  He  mout  not  die  till  his  time  come;  but  he 
doan  know  how  soon  it  gwine  t'  come,  an'  dar  ain't 
no  use  gwine  outen  yo'  way  t'  'vite  it  t'  come." 

The  Governor  passed  on  into  the  drawing  room, 
where  dark  portraits  of  long-forgotten  faces,  painted 

200 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  201 

by  Strolling  Frenchmen,  hung  shadov/y  in  the  twi- 
light. The  house  had  not  been  built  for  an  execu- 
tive mansion,  but  was  much  more  commodious  than 
those  usually  set  apart  by  legislatures  for  such  pur- 
poses, having  been  the  home  of  a  very  old  family 
the  last  member  of  which  had  perished  in  the  war. 
The  estate  was  now  in  chancery,  in  more  senses 
than  one,  the  Governor's  enemies  often  declared. 
He  sat  down  near  a  window  looking  out  across  the 
yard  toward  the  street  and  mused  upon  the  happy 
and  stately  gatherings  that  must  have  been  held  in 
that  room  when  the  old  South  ruled  the  nation. 
There  was  one  picture  that  had  a  fascination  for 
him,  that  of  a  young  man  on  a  horse,  surrounded 
by  a  group  of  negroes.  It  was  a  picture  of  the 
olden  time,  and  it  told  of  a  day  whose  sun  was  for- 
ever set — a  day  that  he  himself  had  helped  to  go  out, 
not  v/ith  a  lingering  light  of  gold  in  the  west,  but  to 
grow  dark  and  die  in  a  cloud.  What  a  contrast  to 
his  own  youth!  How  proud  and  happy  was  the 
face  of  the  boy,  and  how  full  of  admiration  were  the 
countenances  of  the  negroes !  Jim  came  in  to  light 
the  chandelier. 


202  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"You  needn't  light  up  just  yet,"  hastily  inter- 
posed the  Governor.  "I — I  like  the  darkness. 
Leave  me  alone." 

Long  he  sat  there  rapt  in  meditation.  The  twi- 
light shadows  deepened  about  him.  One  by  one  the 
pictures  faded  out  and  the  walls  grew  black.  Low 
in  the  v/est  a  single  star  blazed  fiercely  just  above 
the  tops  of  the  dark  magnolias,  which  seemed  to 
reach  up-  to  the  sky. 

"Who  lighted  that  star?"  he  asked  aloud,  and 
started  at  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  To  his  high- 
wrought  imagination  it  seemed  like  a  friendly  sig- 
nal fire,  a  heavenly  beacon-light  set  to  shape  the 
wavering  course  of  one  who  otherwise  might  go 
astray.  "It  doesn't  give  much  light,"  he  solilo- 
quized, "but  a  man  doesn't  need  much  light  to  steer 
by  if  he  really  tries  to  go  straight  ahead." 

Big  Jim,  perplexed  and  v/orried  by  the  long  con- 
tinued silence  in  the  darkened  room,  several  times 
opened  the  door  slightly;  but  no  voice  bade  him 
enter  and  he  softly  withdrew  in  deeper  anxiety  than 
ever,    The  Governor  was  fighting  the  battle  of  his 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  203 

life.  Shrouded  by  the  kindly  mantle  of  darkness 
he  was  squaring  accounts  with  his  own  soul  and, 
figure  the  problem  as  he  would,  he  could  not  strike 
an  honorable  trial  balance  except  by  crediting  him- . 
self  with  a  sacrifice  such  as  no  man  in  his  position 
ever  made  before.  It  was  a  long,  hard-fought 
battle.  When  it  was  ended,  the  Governor's  furrowed 
cheeks  were  wet;  but  his  personal  accounts  had  been 
balanced. 

"Mistah  Willetts  wants  t'  see  yo',  sah,"  suddenly 
announced  Jim,  evidently  delighted  by  any  legiti- 
mate excuse  to  interrupt  the  long  silence.  It  was 
some  time  before  the  Governor  made  answer.  When 
at  last  he  did  so,  there  was  an  unwonted  note  of 
firmness  in  his  voice. 

"Let  him  come  in,"  he  said. 

"Shall  I  light  up,  sah?" 

"No." 

Willetts  was  greatly  surprised  when  he  found 
himself  thrust  forward  into  a  room  which  was  pitch 
dark  save  for  a  few  straggling  rays  from  a  window 
which  merely  served  to  accentuate  the  blackness  on 
either  side. 


204  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  cried,  familiarly. 
"Playing  'Love  in  the  Dark'?" 

"Find  a  chair  and  sit  down,"  said  a  stern  voice 
near  the  window.    "Now,  then,  what  do  you  want?" 

"I  called  at  the  office  several  times  this  after- 
noon. Governor,  but  didn't  find  you  in,"  Willetts 
began,  "so  I  thought  I'd  run  up  for  a  few  minutes 
to-night." 

There  was  no  response,  except  an  inarticulate 
grunt  from  the  darkness,  which  might  have  meant 
anything  or  nothing. 

"The  election  is  drawing  near,"  continued  the 
log-roller  after  a  brief  pause,  "and  the  opposition  is 
putting  up  so  hot  a  fight  that  we  can't  afford  to 
overlook  a  bet.  It  won't  do  to  take  any  chances 
this  time.  I've  been  talking  the  matter  over  with 
some  of  the  boys  and  we've  rather  agreed  that  the 
safest  way  for  us  is  to  handle  the  voting  right  from 
the  start.  A  few  soldiers  stationed  around  each  bal- 
lot-box would  make  the  matter  easy  enough  for  us. 
Early  in  the  day  a  few  men  ought  to  get  shot — poor 
white  trash  would  probably  fill  the  bill  all  right. 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  205 

Of  course,  we  could  show,  you  know,  that  there  was 
an  attempt  made  to  seize  the  ballot-box  and  that 
the  soldiers  were  forced  to  fire  upon  the  mob  to 
preserve  the  purity  of  the  elective  franchise.  The 
effect  would  be  immense." 

Here  Willetts  slapped  himself  on  the  leg  and 
laughed  uproariously,  as  if  he  were  thoroughly  en- 
joying a  good  joke.  But  he  had  a  monopoly  of  the 
merriment.  "Better  look  after  this,  right  away," 
he  added,  when  his  hilarity  had  subsided.  "Have 
Lummers  draw  up  an  order  for  the  troops  to- 
morrow morning  and  start  the  ball  rolling." 

"And  there's  another  matter,  too,"  he  went  on. 
"We  must  have  a  fair  and  square  returning-board 
to  pass  upon  the  election  results.  There  is  bound 
to  be  a  good  deal  of  illegal  voting  and  a  great  many 
votes  will  have  to  be  thrown  out — some  of  the  re- 
turns probably  will  have  to  be  suppressed  entirely 
— because  of  fraud,  you  understand.  We've  got 
to  have  the  right  men  on  that  board." 

"Humph!"  growled  the  Carpetbagger.  Willetts 
waited  for  him  to  say  something  further,  but  waited 
in  vain  and  at  length  resumed  the  topic  himself. 


206  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

*The  boys  have  gone  over  the  whole  ground 
pretty  completely,"  he  said,  "and  we're  rather  de- 
cided that  Representative  Felton  would  be  a  good 
man  for  you  to  name.  He  owes  his  election  to  you 
and  he's  after  an  appointment  for  his  son-in-law,  so 
he  could  be  relied  upon  to  stand  by  us.  Then,  there 
is  Old  Man  Dabney.  His  seat  is  contested  and  he 
wouldn't  dare  go  back  on  us.  And  the  boys  insist 
that  I  ought  to  take  the  third  place  myself.  Per- 
sonally, I'd  rather  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,  of 
course,  but  they  seem  to  have  set  their  minds  on  it 
and  simply  won't  take  'no'  for  an  answer.  So  I 
finally  have  told  them  that  in  deference  to  their 
wishes  I'd  waive  my  own  feelings  in  the  matter  and 
would — " 

"Jim!"  called  the  Governor.  The  door  was  flung 
open  instantly  and  a  black  giant  stood  framed  in 
the  light. 

"Yas,  sah." 

"Show  Mr.  Willetts  out" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

DRAWING   HIM    OUT 

There  was  consternation  in  the  camp  of  the  Car- 
petbaggers. Willetts  had  lost  no  time  in  passing  the 
word  along  the  hne  that  trouble  was  brewing.  A 
caucus  was  hastily  held  in  the  gambler's  rooms  to 
consider  the  situation  and  map  out  a  plan  of  action. 

"All  I  can  say  is  that  the  old  man  is  acting 
queer,"  said  Willetts,  "and  things  begin  to  look 
squally.  I  can't  account  for  it,"  he  added,  "unless 
he's  gone  wrong  here,"  tapping  his  forehead  sig- 
nificantly. "He  must  know  that  he  can't  scuttle  the 
ship  now  without  going  down  with  us." 

"It  looks  to  me,"  said  the  Speaker  of  the  House, 
a  large,  bald  man  with  a  deep  voice,  ears  that  stood 
out  prominently  and  a  nose  that  looked  as  if  it 
had  often  suffered  from  frost-bite,  "it  looks  to  me  as 
if  Crance  has  struck  something  pretty  good  up 
North  and  is  preparing  to  pull  up  stakes  here  and 
get  out." 

207 


208 


THE   CARPETBAGGER 


"Well,  if  that's  so,"  chimed  in  Willetts,  "the 
quicker  we  find  it  out  the  better." 

"Why  not  plump  it  right  at  him?"  suggested  the 
Secretary  of  State,  a  tall,  spare  man  with  small  eyes 
and  a  ministerial  bearing. 

"Good!"  cried  Willetts,  with  sarcastic  emphasis. 
"You  do  it.  I've  had  one  seance  with  him  and  I'm 
through." 

"We've  got  to  get  at  him,  some  way,  right  off," 
commented  the  Speaker.  "Why  not  get  up  a  little 
dinner,  invite  him  there  and  make  him  show  his 
hand?" 

This  struck  the  conferees  as  the  most  feasible 
scheme,  and,  within  a  few  hours,  Governor  Crance 
received  a  cordial  invitation  to  dine  with  several 
gentlemen,  that  night,  in  one  of  the  private  ban- 
queting rooms  of  the  leading  hotel. 

The  old  Carpetbagger  smiled.  "No,"  he  said, 
"I'm  not  at  all  hungry." 

"But,"  it  was  urged,  "there  are  many  things  to 
discuss  before  the  election  and  a  dinner  party  would 
aflford  an  excellent  opportunity  for  an  exchange  of 
views." 


THE   CARrETBAGGER  209 

"Ah,  that  is  a  horse  of  another  color,"  exclaimed 
the  Governor.  "If  that's  what  you  want,  come  up 
to  the  house  to-night  and  take  dinner  with  me." 
And  so  the  matter  was  settled. 

Shortly  after  nightfall,  the  chief  cogs  of  the  carpet- 
bag machine  began  to  gather  at  the  gubernatorial 
mansion.  The  Governor  met  them  at  the  door  and 
received  them  graciously.  He  shook  hands  with 
them,  laughed  and  chatted,  as  if  the  whole  election 
v/ere  a  huge  joke  and  he  the  point  of  it  all.  Then 
he  bowed  them  into  the  old,  black-walnut  dining 
room  where  the  dinner  was  served.  At  the  foot  of 
the  table,  opposite  the  Governor,  sat  Willetts.  At 
the  Carpetbagger's  right  was  the  State  Auditor.  He 
had  been  at  the  head  of  an  insurance  company,  and 
report  said  that  he  did  not  care  to  return  to  the 
scene  of  his  former  operations.  To  him  this  life 
was  a  game,  and  everything  that  he  could  lay 
hands  on  without  detection,  and  sometimes  even 
with  it,  was  fairly  won.  He  and  the  Governor  had 
been  rather  intimate,  though  of  late  they  had  been 
seen  less  together,  and  it  had  been  said  by  a  member 


210  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

of  the  House  that  the  Auditor  had  recently  referred 
to  the  "old  man"  as  a  "fool,  juggling  with  his 
chances."  At  the  Governor's  left  sat  a  militia  of- 
ficer, resplendent  in  uniform  and  with  a  mild  con- 
tempt for  all  civilians. 

The  dinner  started  out  stupidly,  with  low  conver- 
sation and  the  tip-toeing  of  servants.  The  talk  was 
mainly  grunts  and  acquiescences,  nods  and  more 
grunts — the  gathering  of  tired  men,  the  half- 
hearted feeding  of  feverish  stomachs,  the  closing 
scene  of  a  long  dissipation;  but  there  is  often  an 
enlivening  revival  at  the  end  of  a  dull  debauch,  and 
when  the  wine  had  been  passed  and  tossed  off  time 
after  time  there  was  more  animation.  The  Gov- 
ernor drank  but  little;  he  livened  up,  though,  with 
the  rest  and  joined  in  the  noisy  talk.  They  could 
hear  Jim  pacing  slowly  up  and  down  the  veranda. 
Nellie  and  Roy  peeped  in  at  the  door,  Nellie  seeing 
the  whole  company,  but  the  boy  seeing  nothing  but 
the  militia  officer.  Rain  was  falling.  They  heard  it 
pattering  on  the  dusty  leaves. 

"Has  any  one  seen  Old  Man  Reynolds  since  Jiis 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  211 

release  from  jail?"  asked  the  Speaker.  The  Gov- 
ernor frowned  over  his  wine;  but  the  Speaker  took 
no  notice  of  it.  "I  don't  quite  agree  with  you, 
Governor,  in  that  afifair,"  he  added,  with  a  laugh. 

"The  old  man  is  innocent,"  the  Governor  replied. 

"But  how  do  you  know?"  the  Secretary  put  in. 
"The  courts  haven't  decided  and  the  whole  case 
floats  in  mid  air.  The  authorities  seem  afraid  to 
touch  it." 

"It  will  probably  always  remain  a  mystery,"  said 
the  Auditor. 

The  Speaker  did  not  think  that  it  was  a  mystery. 
Nearly  everything  rested  upon  evidence,  he  said, 
and  evidence  was  strong  against  the  old  man. 

The  Governor  looked  at  him  and  his  eye  was  as 
searching  as  a  camera,  but  he  said  nothing;  he  was 
thinking  of  the  boy  whom  he  had  seen  at  the 
spring. 

"The  Northern  papers  have  taken  up  the  matter," 
said  the  Speaker.  "They  say  that  if  that's  the  way 
we  are  going  to  reconstruct — " 

"Drop  it,"  the  Governor  broke  in,  ''Have  some 
more  wine." 


212  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"But,  really,  Governor,  it  ought  to  be  cleared  up." 
"It  is  cleared  up,  so  far  as  that  old  man  is  con- 
cerned," said  the  Governor.     "I  don't  give  a  snap 
for  all  the  evidence  you  can  bring." 

The  Speaker  smiled.    "Then  what  do  you  give  a 
snap  for?" 

"The  truth,  sir." 

"Well,  how  are  we  going  to  get  at  it?" 
"We  have  got  it  now;  the  old  man  told  it." 
Willetts  objected.     He  yielded  to  no  man  in  re 
spect  for  Old  John  Reynolds,  he  said,  but  he  be 
lieved  that  sentiment  should  cut  no  figure  in  suet 
a  case.    "Wiley  Jones,"  he  added,  "was  my  friend 
He  did  me  many  a  good  turn  and  I  naturally  feel  hi^ 
death  very  keenly.    The  only  person  who  has  even 
been  suspected  of  this  crime  is  a  free  man  to-day 
and  that,  too,  without  establishing  his  innocence  in 
court.     I  do  not  say  that  Reynolds  killed  Jones — 
what  I  believe  doesn't  matter,  perhaps — but  some- 
body killed  him.    If  the  old  man  didn't,  who  did?" 
Here  the  militia  officer  gave  his  opinion.     All 
civil  courts  were  humbugs.    If  you  want  justice  you 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  213 

must  go  to  the  drum-head  rather  than  to  the  bar. 
Men  who  made  money  by  deaHng  out  "justice" 
were  necessarily  corrupt,  or  at  least  full  of  tricks, 
the  same  as  you  would  find  it  in  any  other  business. 
What  the  entire  country  needed  was  a  military  gov- 
ernment. When  was  England  greatest  and  most 
feared  by  the  nations  of  the  earth?  When  the  helm 
of  state  was  grasped  by  the  iron  hand  of  Cromwell. 
The  Secretary,  being  a  lawyer  b}'  profession,  took 
issue  with  him.  The  Auditor,  being  an  industrious 
drinker,  proposed  a  song.  He  said  a  song  was  more 
convincing  than  an  argument.  The  Speaker 
thought  that  they  ought  to  look  seriously  at  the 
coming  political  crisis.  "The  election  is  almost 
here,  you  know." 

"So  it  is,""  remarked  the  Governor.  The  Auditor 
wanted  to  know  whether  or  not  all  the  judges  had 
been  appointed  and  whether  or  not  they  could  sing. 
The  Auditor  was  drunk.  The  Speaker  hoped  that 
they  might  sing  the  right  tune  and  in  the  right  key. 
He  looked  at  the  Governor,  expecting  him  to  say 
something,  but  he  did  not.    The  Auditor  began  to 


214  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

sing.  The  Speaker  called  him  to  order.  "Wait  a 
moment,"  he  cried.  "We  are  on  a  serious  subject 
now.  You  must  remember  that  we've  got  a  govern- 
ment on  our  shoulders." 

"You  must  want  to  be  re-elected,"  said  the  Audit- 
or. '*I  don't  care  how  it  goes.  I  want  to  go  back  to 
Wisconsin  and  catch  some  fish.  Say,  I've  got  a 
place  on  a  lake  there  that's  full  of  fish — muskel- 
longe  as  long  as  a  barrel  stave.  Let's  all  sing 
'Home,  Sweet- — " 

"Shut  up;  do  be  serious  for  a  mom.ent,  won't 
you?" 

"Oh,  I've  been  serious  long  enough.  I  was  shot 
at  the  other  day  and  that  was  serious  enough.  Gov- 
ernor, that's  good  wine — must  have  found  it  in  the 
cellar  here.    Everybody  sing." 

The  dinner  was  to  have  been  a  "business  meet- 
ing," but  it  seemed  to  be  drifting  away  from  its 
original  purpose.  Why  a  militia  officer,  a  stranger 
who  had  no  possible  interest  in  their  afifairs  should 
have  been  invited,  the  Speaker  could  not  make  clear 
unto  himself.  It  was  to  have  been  a  political  con- 
ference, the  discussion  of  vital  interests,  and  why 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  215 

the  Governor  was  so  free  with  his  wine,  the  Sec- 
retary could  not  make  out.  Formerly  such  occa- 
sions had  been  feasts  of  state  where  important 
matters  were  discussed  and  disposed  of  and  the 
heads  of  all  the  departments  had  been  present  to 
receive  advice  and  instruction.  There  may  have 
been  songs,  but  no  one  would  have  dared  to  pro- 
pose such  a  thing  until  the  hour  had  grown  too 
mellow  for  business.  The  Governor  would  not  only 
have  frowned  upon  it,  but  would  have  shut  the 
door  upon  the  offender.  Now  he  laughed  when 
the  Auditor  broke  in  upon  every  attempt  to  get 
down  to  business. 

Jim  paced  up  and  down  the  veranda,  and  Nellie 
and  Roy  took  an  occasional  peep  into  the  dining 
room,  the  boy,  wide-eyed  in  admiration  of  the  mi- 
litia man. 

"In  this  life,  who  is  it  that  deserves  success?" 
said  the  Speaker. 

Some  one  replied  "the  honest  man,"  and  there 
was  a  good-humored  laugh.  All  eyes  were. turned 
upon  the  Governor,  but  he  did  not  even  smile. 


216  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"The  honest  man  may  be  incompetent,"  said  the 
Speaker.  "Honesty  isn't  everything.  Ability 
stands  at  the  head  of  all  virtues,  in  my  opinion. 
Simple  honesty  may  get  one  and  one's  friends  into 
trouble;  therefore  honesty  may  be  dangerous.  No, 
sir;  the  man  who  plays  his  cards  for  all  they  are 
worth  is  the  man  who  ought  to  win — in  a  political 
contest,  for  instance."  He  fixed  his  gaze  on  the 
Governor,  who  sat  dreaming  in  a  cloud  of  smoke. 
"I  claim  the  man  who  is  out  for  the  stuff,"  said  the 
Speaker,  "is  the  fellow  who  ought  to  succeed.  It 
is  foolish  for  any  one  to  throw  away  his  own 
chances.  When  he  throws  away  the  chances  of  his 
friends,  also,  it  is  a  crime."  He  fixed  his  gaze  on 
the  Governor. 

The  chief  executive  brightened  suddenly.  *T  was 
out  in  the  country  to-day  and  I  found  excellent 
prospects  for  the  coming  crop,"  said  he. 

"A  crime,  I  repeat,"  said  the  Speaker. 

"This  rain  comes  in  good  time,"  the  Governor 
remarked,  pufifing  his  cigar. 

"We  saw  the  crop  planted,  but  who  will  witness 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  217 

the  harvesting  thereof?"  said  the  Secretary,  and  the 
observation  suited  the  gravity  of  his  countenance. 

"I  don't  think  I  shall,"  spoke  up  the  Auditor, 
unsteady  of  head.    "I  feel  myself  slipping." 

"None  of  us  need  to  slip  if  the  right  thing  is 
done,"  said  the  Speaker,  significantly. 

The  Governor  laid  down  his  cigar  and  arose. 
"Gentlemen,"  he  quietly  remarked,  "as  the  hour  is 
growing  late  and  you  soon  will  have  to  leave  us, 
perhaps  it  might  interest  you  to  know  before  going 
home  that  I  have  picked  out  the  three  members  of 
the  returning-board,  which  v/ill  pass  upon  the  re- 
sults of  the  forthcoming  election." 

A  chorus  of  suppressed  "Ahs"  went  up  from 
all  sides  of  the  table. 

"The  first  man  I  have  chosen,"  he  continued,  "is 
Captain  Jerome  Pointer  of  Gum  Springs." 

"He's  a  Reynolds  man!"  shouted  Willetts,  ex- 
citedly. 

"The  second,"  calmly  proceeded  the  Carpet- 
bagger, "is  Prof.  Willis  Maynard,  state  superin- 
tendent of  public  instruction." 


218  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

The  diners  looked  at  each  other  in  blank  amaze- 
ment. "He  isn't  a  poHtician,  at  all,"  exclaimed 
the  Secretary.  "Shut  up!"  cried  the  Auditor,  vainly 
trying-  to  untangle  his  tongue.  "If  he's  an  office 
holder  you  can  bet  he's  all  right." 

"And  the  third  is  a  gentleman  whom  you  all 
know  and  respect — Rev.  Jacob  Williams  of  the  First 
Baptist  church  of  this  city." 

Pandemonium  broke  loose  in  a  moment.  Amid 
the  babel  the  Governor  stood,  smiling,  until  com- 
parative quiet  was  restored.  Then  he  raised  his 
hand  with  a  commanding  gesture.  "Gentlemen," 
he  said,  "I  must  now  bid  you  good-night."  Growl- 
ing, muttering  and  cursing,  the  little  party  broke  up 
in  great  confusion.  There  was  no  form.al  leave- 
taking. 

At  the  door  the  Governor  touched  the  militia 
ofiicer's  sleeve.  *'Wait,"  he  said.  A  few  moments 
later,  when  they  were  alone,  the  Carpetbagger 
handed  the  officer  a  fresh  cigar  and  lighted  one  for 
himself.  "Colonel,"  he  said,  "to-morrow  you  will 
receive  from  the  Adjutant  General  your  orders  con- 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  219 

cerning  the  disposition  of  troops  at  the  polls.  That 
there  may  be  no  misunderstanding  I  want  to  sup- 
plement those  orders  now  by  a  few  verbal  instruc- 
tions. You  will  detail  two  men  for  service  at  each 
polling  place.  You  will  instruct  them  to  preserve 
order  and  prevent  all  demonstrations.  You  will 
also  instruct  them  not  to  approach  within  a  radius 
of  three  hundred  feet  from  the  ballot  boxes.  And 
you  will  order  them  to  arrest  any  man  who  in  any 
way,  directly  or  indirectly,  seeks  to  interfere  with 
the  right  of  every  citizen  to  cast  his  vote  as  he 
pleases.    Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but—" 

"You  may  omit  the  'but'.  There  is  no  'but'  in 
this  order.  And  if  it  is  not  carried  out  to  the  letter 
I  shall  hold  you  personally  responsible.  Do  you 
understand  that?" 

The  Colonel  gave  a  formal  military  salute.  "I 
always  obey  orders  from  headquarters,"  he  said,  as 
he  arose  to  go. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  GOVERNOR  MEETS  THE  "bAD  MAN  " 

Many  a  wise  man  has  given  himself  over  to  the 
study  of  his  own  conscience,  surprising  himself  with 
its  many  phases  and  unexpected  complexions.  And 
he  who  buffets  the  world  and  has  in  turn  been 
buffeted  by  it,  finds  himself  gazing  into  a  kaleido- 
scope when  he  turns  his  eye  inward ;  the  colors  may 
not  be  bright,  but  the  shapes  are  many.  It  is  hard 
for  the  honest  man  to  find  that  he  himself  is  disinter- 
estedly honest.  At  one  moment  he  may  believe 
that  he  is  so,  but  the  fragments  that  go  to  make  up 
his  conscience  tumble  apart,  readjust  themselves 
and  lo,  there  is  a  complete  change.  Honesty  has  its 
degrees,  its  morning,  noon  and  night  phases;  but 
there  is  one  quality  in  man  that  undergoes  no 
change,  a  quality  superior  to  conscience  or  honesty, 
— honor. 

This  train  of  thought  was  running  through  the 

220 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  221 

Governor's  mind  as  he  strolled  slowly  along  a 
street  in  the  residential  part  of  the  town.  He  argued 
that  honor  might  stray  off  like  a  deer,  to  feed  upon 
rich  pastures  in  a  strange  land,  and  still  like  the 
deer,  it  might  come  back  again  to  nibble  the  short 
grass  of  its  native  hill-side.  He  heard  the  talking 
of  children,  and  halted  to  look  at  two  little  girls, 
playing  in  the  corner  of  a  fence.  On  the  fence 
sat  a  boy,  compassionately,  and  yet  with  a  con- 
temptuous sense  of  his  superiority,  looking  down 
upon  them.  There  were  a  number  of  dolls  on 
diminutive  chairs,  little  things  made  bright  with 
ribbons  and  lace;  and  a  short  distance  off,  in  a  sort 
of  pen  made  of  bricks  and  stone,  there  was  a  hideous 
monster  of  a  rag  doll,  with  great  charcoal  eyes 
and  a  mouth  of  frightful  width.  It  was  a  "man- 
doll,"  with  a  bull  neck,  an  unsightly  paunch  and 
knock-knees.  On  his  head  he  wore  horns,  made  of 
the  long  thorns  from  a  locust  tree.  The  Governor 
spoke  kindly  and  the  girls  looked  up  smilingly  at 
him. 

"You  have  a  very  pretty  house  and  are  very  neat 
housekeepers,"  he  said. 


222  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"It  would  be  nice,  but  everything  is  upside  down, 
now,"  said  the  larger  of  the  girls.  **We  have  so 
much  trouble." 

"With  our  young  friend  up  here?"  said  the  Gov- 
ernor, nodding  at  the  boy. 

"Oh,  no,  with  the  old  'Bad  Man',"  she  replied. 

"The  'Bad  Man'?" 

"Yes,  there  he  is,"  and  she  pointed  to  the  doll  in 
the  pen. 

Then  the  younger  child  spoke.  "He's  all  the 
time  coming  in  and  tryin'  to  take  the  little  ones 
away.  See  the  hair  coming  out  of  Lillie's  head?" 
she  added,  pointing  to  a  doll  that  was  losing  its 
yellow  wool.  "Well,  he  did  that  when  we  wasn't 
lookin'.    He's  the  meanest  thing." 

"Why  don't  you  have  him  killed?"  the  Governor 
asked,  and  the  boy  snorted, 

"He  can't  be  killed,"  replied  the  larger  girl.  "He 
has  been  shot  oh,  so  many  times ;  but  it  don't  make 
no  difiference  to  him.  He  don't  mind  it  at  all.  He 
eats  bullets  and  powder  and  smacks  his  mouth  and 
wants  more." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  223 

'*Ho,"  said  the  boy,  "I  could  rip  him  all  to  pieces 
in  a  minute." 

This  was  a  brutal  piece  of  iconoclasm,  and  the 
larger  girl  resented  it.  "Now  what  do  you  want  to 
talk  that  way  for,  Billie.  You  are  all  the  time 
tryin'  to  break  up  everything.  I  wish  you'd  go 
home." 

"You  call  the  old  fellow  over  there  the  'Bad 
Man',"  said  the  Governor.  "Hasn't  he  any  other 
name?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  child.  "His  other  name  is 
'Governor  Crance'." 

The  Carpetbagger  winced.  He  not  only  saw  the 
abhorrence  in  which  he  was  held  in  the  present, 
but  saw  himself  in  the  future,  pictured  as  a  beast. 
These  children,  in  the  years  to  come,  would  tell 
their  grandchildren  of  the  monster  who  once  made 
his  den  in  the  state  house.  The  strong  man  may 
defy  the  opinion  held  to-day,  for  he  can  confront 
a  charge  and  frown  upon  it;  but  he  may  neverthe- 
less be  afraid  of  the  opinion  forming,  mist-like, 
away  off  yonder  in  the  unnamed  days  to  come. 


224  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

There  he  cannot  defend  himself,  and  his  helpless 
descendants  must  bear  the  odium  of  his  misdeeds. 
The  Governor,  with  his  arm.s  resting  on  the  fence, 
and  with  an  occasional  look  at  the  "Bad  Man"  in 
the  pen,  the  thing  now  having  a  sort  of  fascination 
for  him,  mused  over  the  little  girls,  knowing  them 
to  be  ignorant  that  the  namesake  of  their  rag- 
ruffian  v/as  so  near, 

"But  is  this  Governor  Crance  such  a  very  bad 
man?"  he  asked. 

"Awful,"  said  the  larger  girl.  'They  have  to 
watch  him  all  the  time.  He  goes  out  when  the 
nights  are  dark  and  steals  sheep,  and  he  drags  them 
into  his  den  and  sucks  their  blood  out  and  then 
throws  'em  away.  And  one  night  when  an  old  man 
sat  counting  his  money,  a  hand  came  in  at  the 
windov/  and  grabbed  the  money  and  the  old  man 
grabbed  the  hand,  for  it  was  all  the  money  he  had 
and  he  didn't  know  where  to  get  any  more ;  but  the 
hand  wouldn't  let  go,  and  neither  would  the  old 
man,  so  he  was  dragged  away  out  in  the  woods. 
And  the  next  morning  they  found  him  in  a  sink 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  225 

hole,  with  one  of  his  hands  cut  off,  and  that  day  a 
man  saw  Governor  Crance  go  to  the  window  of  the 
awful  place  where  he  stays  and  throw  a  hand  out 
in  the  yard." 

"Yes,"  the  younger  girl  spoke  up,  "and  when 
he  blows  his  breath  at  a  cow  she  can't  give  any  more 
milk;  and  my  uncle  he  had  a  cow  and  Governor 
Crance  blov/ed  his  breath  at  her,  and  she  couldn't 
give  a  drop  of  milk.  She  tried,  and  tried,  but  she 
couldn't." 

The  boy  snorted.  "Ho,"  he  said,  "I'd  put  a  hole 
through  him  if  he  was  to  come  blowin'  his  breath 
around  any  of  my  cows." 

"You  are  awful  brave,  ain't  you?"  said  the  older 
girl,  half  tauntingly,  and  yet  with  the  light  of  ad- 
miration in  her  eyes. 

"I'm  brave  enough  to  put  a  hole  through  him," 
the  boy  rephed,  shaking  his  head;  "and  when  I  get 
big  I'm  going  to  do  it,  whether  he  blows  his  breath 
at  my  cows  or  not." 

"If  you  shoot  at  him,"  said  the  smaller  girl,  '*he'll 
catch  the  powder  and  throw  it  back  at  you." 

The  boy  shouted.    "Ho,  catch  the  powder!    Who 


226  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

ever  heard  of  catching  powder!  Girls  don't  know  a 
thing,  do  they,  Mister?  Ho,  catch  the  powder. 
You  mean  bullet." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "it  don't  make  any  difference 
what  he  would  catch,  he'd  catch  it  just  the  same, 
and  he'd  throw  it  back  at  you  and  kill  you  with  it." 

"How  long  since  Brother  Crance  over  there 
broke  out?"  the  Governor  asked,  nodding  at  the 
rag-ruffian.  The  younger  girl  looked  at  the  older 
one  as  if  this  were  an  important  matter  and  should 
be  answered  after  due  deliberation. 

"Yesterday,"  said  the  older  girl.  "Some  visitors 
came,  and  while  we  were  talkin'  to  'em,  v/e  heard 
a  screamin'  and  a  loud  bellov/,  and  when  we  ran 
in  here,  the  old  'Bad  Man'  had  choked  Mollie  and 
Jennie  nearly  to  death  and  had  pulled  Lillie's  hair 
till  she  was  blue  in  the  face.  It  was  all  we  could  do 
to  get  him  out,  and  as  soon  as  we  shut  him  up,  he 
said  he  wanted  a  sheep  to  eat,  a  great,  big,  whole 
sheep;  but  we  wouldn't  give  him  a  poor  sheep  that 
never  did  an3^body  any  harm,  so  he's  hungry  yet, 
and  we  don't  care  if  he  starves  to  death." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  227 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  not  far  away, 
there  was  a  refreshment  booth  presided  over  by  a  fat 
German.  The  Governor  asked  the  children  if  they 
would  like  to  go  over  with  him  and  eat  ice  cream. 
The  boy  tumbled  off  the  fence,  and  the  faces  of  the 
girls  brightened.  They  went  with  him,  the  girls 
hanging  to  his  arms,  and  the  boy  proudly  marching 
in  front  as  if  he  had  inspired  the  expedition.  When 
they  sat  down  at  a  table  the  Governor  told  them  that 
the  entire  establishment  was  theirs  if  they  wanted 
it.  They  had  liked  him  at  first;  now  they  were  en- 
chanted by  him.  The  smaller  girl  gazed  into  his 
eyes  and  said  that  they  were  like  her  own  grandpa's, 
always  trying  to  laugh  at  something. 

"What  is  your  name?"  the  older  girl  asked. 

"My  name,"  said  the  Governor,  with  his  eye  on 
the  proprietor,  now  bestirring  himself  in  the  execu- 
tion of  an  order,  "why,  you  may  call  me  Mr.  Old- 
fellow." 

"What  a  funny  name,"  cried  the  younger  girl. 
"But  you  ain't  funny.  You  are  the  bestest  sort  of  a 
man,  and  I'm  going  to  think  of  you  when  you  are 


228  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

not  here,  and  when  my  uncle  is  Governor  in  place 
of  the  bad  man  that's  there  now,  I'm  goin'  to  make 
him  give  you  a  big  dinner  and  all  the  people  will  be 
there  and  you'll  be  glad." 

"Your  uncle?"  said  the  Governor.  "What  is  his 
name?    Not — er,  Major  Reynolds?" 

"Ah,  ha.  He's  my  uncle,  and  when  he's  Gov- 
ernor— " 

"Let  us  have  all  the  different  kinds  of  cake  you 
have,"  said  the  Governor,  breaking  in  upon  her  as 
the  proprietor  came  near.  "Yes,  bring  us  every- 
thing you've  got.    Cover  the  table." 

"Ain't  he  good!"  cried  the  older  girl. 

The  proprietor  shrugged  his  heavy  shoulders. 
"I  vould  say  he  vos.  Und  you  don'd  know  who  vas 
doin'  all  deese,  hah?  It  vas  nod  everypody  dat  had 
ice  cream  und  cake  bought  by  de  Gof — " 

The  Carpetbagger  lifted  his  hand.  "Don't,"  he 
said. 

The  proprietor  understood  and  bowed  as  he  went 
back  to  where  his  wife  stood  wiping  dishes.  ^'A 
man  vot  can  ketch  de  leetle  ones,  like  dot,"  he  re- 
marked, "can't  be  so  bat  in  de  heart." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

FOOD  FOR  SCANDAL 

When  the  feast  was  done,  the  Governor  bade  his 
little  friends  good-bye,  the  smaller  eirl  putting  up 
her  lips  to  be  kissed,  and  strode  full  of  thought 
along  the  street.  He  pictured  the  horrified  change 
that  would  have  spread  over  the  faces  of  the  chil- 
dren had  the  German  told  them  that  it  was  the 
Carpetbagger  who  had  ordered  the  feast.  He  could 
see  the  boy  scampering  off,  to  save  himself,  and 
could  hear  the  two  girls  begging  for  mercy.  "And 
this  is  America,"  he  soliloquized.  He  passed  along 
by  the  post-office,  still  musing,  with  no  thought 
for  the  scenes  about  him,  when  he  was  called  out  of 
the  depths  by  a  soft  voice  at  his  side.  He  looked  up 
and  a  flush  flew  to  his  face  as  he  met  the  gaze  of  the 
widow  Fairburn.  She  had  just  come  out  of  the 
post-office,  for  she  had  a  letter  and  a  newspaper  in 
her  hand. 


230  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

The  Governor  was  surprised,  not  indeed  to  find 
her  there,  for  everyone  went  to  the  post-office,  but 
surprised  that  she  should  speak  to  him  where  every 
eye  could  see  her,  where  every  look  would  be  a 
reproach.  lie  bowed  to  her,  halting  thoughtfully 
to  let  her  pass  on,  and  murmured  something  which 
sounded  like  "delighted  to  see  you.  Madam."  But 
she  did  not  go;  she  stood  face  to  face  with  him, 
looking  with  frankness  into  his  eyes,  and  though 
he  turned  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left,  yet  he 
knew  that  the  passers-by  were  casting  reproachful 
glances  upon  her.  It  was  embarrassing;  he  would 
not  thus  expose  her  to  the  censure  of  her  friends. 
Bowing  again,  he  moved  off  and  was  surprised  to 
find  that  she  was  walking  beside  him.  True  they 
were  neighbors  and  had  talked  across  the  fence; 
they  were  more  than  neighbors,  for  she  had  given 
him  a  rose,and  one  eveninghehad walked  homewitli 
her,  bidding  her  good-night  at  the  door  of  her 
house;  but  she  had  never  invited  him  to  enter  that 
house,  had  never  encouraged  him  to  recognize  her 
when  they  met  by  chance  in  the  street.     Many  a 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  231 

time  she  had  passed  without  raising  her  eyes,  with- 
out even  showing  by  her  countenance  that  she 
knew  he  was  near.  So,  what  could  be  the  meaning 
of  this  bold  recognition?  He  slackened  his  pace  to 
let  her  walk  on,  and  she  walked  slower;  he  quick- 
ened  his  steps  to  pass  her,  and  she  moved  along  be- 
side him. 

"Mrs,  Fairburn,"  he  exclaimed,  hastily,  "hav« 
you  forgotten  that  I — ?  Don't  you  know  that  yout 
friends  will—?" 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  replied.  "But  there  are  con- 
siderations higher  than  the  approval  of  friends.  A 
duty  can  sometimes  be  so  strong  and  imperative  as 
to  put  every  friend  in  the  background." 

"I  don't  understand,  Mrs.  Fairburn."  He 
glanced  at  her  and  saw  her  eyes,  full  of  a  soft  light, 
turned  toward  him. 

"Governor,  I  heard  something  about  you  yester- 
day, and  I  determined  then  that  I  would  thank  you, 
no  matter  where  I  might  meet  you  or  who  might  be 
displeased." 

''Heard  something?  Well,  you  can't  always  be^ 
licve  ^vhat  you  hear,  you  know." 


232  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"But  I  can  believe  what  I  heard  yesterday.  I 
know  that  you  have  turned  over  to  a  committee  of 
our  citizens — men  whose  honesty  cannot  be  ques- 
tioned— two  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  found  an 
orphan  asylum  for  the  state.    I  want  to  thank  you." 

"No;  let  me  thank  you,"  he  replied. 

She  caught  her  breath,  and  they  walked  some 
distance  before  another  word  was  spoken.  "Our 
roads  lie  in  the  same  direction,"  she  said.  They 
were  going  toward  home. 

"I  hope  that  our  paths  may  never  cross,"  he  re- 
plied, without  looking  at  her,  and  they  walked  on 
a  long  distance  without  speaking. 

"Mrs.  Fairburn,"  he  said,  at  length,  "a  conscience 
encouraged  to  clear  itself  of  a  weight,  ought  to  feel 
thankful.    I  know  one  that  does." 

"Governor,"  replied  the  widow,  "the  seed  of 
reformation  lies  in  the  soil  of  every  conscience." 

"Ah,  but  it  may  not  sprout  till  water  is  gently 
poured  upon  it.  Then  let  that  conscience  thank  the 
hand  that  poured  the  water.  Mrs.  Fairburn,  a  con- 
science is  sometimes  a  sort  of  Central  Africa  and 
has  not  within  it  the  germ  of  self-civilization." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  233 

They  were  now  at  the  gate.  She  halted  and  after 
a  few  moments'  silence,  said:  "Won't  you — won't 
you  come  in?"  Had  it  cost  her  an  effort?  He 
thought  so,  and  hesitated. 

"Do — er- — do  you  mean  it?" 

"I  never  say  things  that  I  do  not  mean." 

He  stepped  in  at  the  gate,  she  beside  him,  and 
silently  walked  along  the  paved  pathway  that  led 
up  to  the  steps  of  the  old  mansion.  There  were 
rocking  chairs  on  the  veranda,  but  she  did  not  ask 
him  to  sit  down  there^;  she  led  him  into  the  old- 
fashioned  parlor  where  there  was  a  cool,  sweet  smell. 
He  glanced  about  the  room,  so  full  of  the  wasteful 
richness  of  the  past:  the  heavy  furniture  brought 
from  foreign  lands,  paintings  from  Italian  walls,  and 
an  old  grand  piano  which  once  had  been  the  marvel 
of  the  community.  The  Governor  fancied  that  he 
could  almost  smell  the  music  in  it,  and  he  sat  down, 
with  his  mind  on  the  wheezing  melodeon  in  the 
cheerless  "best  room"  of  the  farm-house  where  he  ' 
had  lain,  cold  and  miserable,  "up  chamber,"  listen- 
ing to  a  tune  that  was  intended  as  praise  to  the 
Lord. 


234  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"I  used  to  think  that  all  the  sv/eet  tunes  came 
like  a  perfume  from  the  South,"  he  said.  "And  they 
seemed  to  come  of  a  summer  evening,  just  after  a 
rain." 

"Why,  Governor,"  she  said,  with  brightening 
eyes,  "you  are  really  sentimental.  Your  old  home 
must  still  be  warm  in  your  heart." 

He  shook  his  head.  "My  heart  could  have  made 
a  home  warm,  but  I  had  no  home."  He  looked 
through  the  window  at  the  whitewashed  negro 
cabins  in  the  distance.  ''Out  there  they  used  to 
sing  and  dance  at  night,"  he  said ;  "but  with  us  there 
was  no  song.  We  worked  so  hard  that  when  dark- 
ness came  we  dropped  down  to  sleep;  and,  even  on 
Sunday,  the  sun  shining  through  the  roof  was  some- 
times a  mockery  of  freedom,  calling  upon  us  to  get 
up  and  work  with  the  cattle.  But  it  was  a  great 
luxury  to  lie  in  bed  till  after  the  sun  had  come  up, 
and  it  could  not  be  hoped  for  except  on  Sunday." 

Her  eyes  were  full  of  sympathy.  "I  remember 
an  old  song,"  he  went  on,  slowly  rocking  in  the 
soft  chair.  "Something  about  the  'Yellow  Rose  of 
Texas'.    Won't  you  sing  it  for  me?" 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  235 

She  went  to  the  piano  and  the  first  note  she 
touched  sent  a  thrill  through  him.  Her  voice  was 
low  and  rich,  suited,  he  thought,  to  the  paintings  on 
the  wall.  He  forgot  his  office,  forgot  the  war,  the 
blood  shed  by  brothers.  In  the  world  there  was 
nothing  but  melody.  He  did  not  know  when  she 
ceased  to  sing  but,  looking  through  a  mist,  he  saw 
that  she  had  turned  upon  the  stool  and  was  facing 
him.  He  had  not  dreamed  enough,  had  not  for- 
gotten enough  of  the  war  and  of  the  blood  of  the 
son  on  the  shirt  of  the  father.  "Sing  again,"  he 
whispered,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  "Sing  an  old 
tune — something  so  gentle  and  peace-loving  that 
it  did  not  dare  to  lift  its  head  during  our  storm." 

She  understood  him.  She  knew  that  he  was  try- 
ing to  forget,  that  he  found  a  sweetness  in  putting 
a  blight  on  the  present.  Again  and  again  she  sang 
and  he  floated  away  in  a  warm  sea  of  melody.  The 
tavern  bells  clanged  the  hour  for  supper.  He  got 
up  and  held  out  his  hand.  "I  want  to  thank  you 
for  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  my  life."  She 
smiled  as  she  took  his  hand,  and  something  in  that 


236  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

smile  told  him  that  she  was  sorry  for  him,  nothing 
more.  Had  it  not  been  for  that  pitying-  smile  he 
might  have  said  something  that  had  crept  into  his 
heart,  but  now  he  drove  it  out  almost  resentfully. 

The  command  of  "guide,  right,"  came  from  the 
street  and,  looking  out,  they  saw  a  company  of  mi- 
litia passing.  It  had  all  come  back  now — the  mem- 
ory of  the  war,  the  adventure  on  the  one  hand  and 
the  insult  of  the  Reconstruction  period  on  the  other. 

"Yes,"  he  repeated,  "a  very  enjoyable  time.  I 
wish  you  good-evening,  Madam." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   MAJOR   FILES  AN   OBJECTION 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  the  swallows  had 
ceased  to  skim  through  the  dusky  air,  the  card  of 
Major  Reynolds  was  brought  in  to  Mrs.  Fairburn. 
She  greeted  him  warmly  when  he  came  into  the 
room,  telling  him  how  glad  she  was  that  he  had 
called,  and  added  that  he  had  almost  forgotten  her 
during  the  push  and  struggle  of  the  campaign. 
When  a  lamp  had  been  lighted  and  she  could  see 
his  face,  however,  she  knew  that  something  must 
have  gone  amiss,  and  she  remembered  then  that  he 
had  said  nothing  since  he  sat  down  stiffly. 

*'The  campaign  will  soon  be  over,"  she  said. 
"And  then,  of  course,  I  shall  see  no  more  of  you." 

He  turned  his  eyes  upon  her ;  a  frown  was  traced 
upon  his  brow.  "Has  anything  gone  wrong, 
Major?" 

He  cleared  his  throat.     "Decidedly,  Madam." 

"Indeed!    May  I  ask  what  it  is?" 

237 


238  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"You  shall  know.  A  few  moments  ago,  while  in  a 
drug  store,  I  was  deeply  grieved  to  hear  that  you 
had  been  seen  in  front  of  the  post-office,  talking  to 
Governor  Crance;  that  you  had  not  only  encour- 
aged him  to  talk  to  you,  but  that  you  permitted  him 
to  walk  home  with  you.  I  said  that  it  could  not  be 
true;  I  could  not  believe  it." 

"But  you  must  have  believed  it,  Major.  Your 
face  and  the  tone  of  your  voice  tell  me  that  you  did 
believe  it." 

"Ah,  but  your  face  and  the  tone  of  your  voice 
tell  me  that  it  is  all  a  mistake,"  he  replied. 

"It  is  true,"  she  said. 

"You  acknowledge  it?" 

"If  it's  true,  why  shouldn't  I  acknowledge  it?" 

''Ah,  but  why  should  it  be  true?  How  could  you 
so  scandalize  your  state  and  your  family?  I  ask 
you  that.     How  could  you?" 

"Major,"  she  said,  slowly,  "a  good  man  deserves 
little  credit  for  doing  right.  It  is  his  nature  to  do 
so.  But  one  who  for  any  reason  has  gone  astray 
deserves  a  great  deal  of  credit  if  he  makes  an  honest 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  239 

effort  to  reform.  Such  a  man  deserves  our  sym- 
pathy. He  deserves  something  more  than  our  sym- 
pathy; he  commands  our  aid,  our  support,  our 
grateful  recognition." 

"If  you  are  going  to  defend  him  I  will  not  stay 
to—" 

"Wait.  I  am  not  defending  the  past  record  of 
Governor  Crance.  I  know  that  he  represents  a  bad 
cause.  But  I  cannot  shut  my  eyes  to  the  fact  that 
of  late  he  has  done  deeds  meet  for  repentance." 

"But  think  of  yourself/'  the  Major  insisted.  "And 
consider  who  he  is  and  what  he  represents.  Think 
of  your  standing  in  this  community.  Alice,  I  have 
known  you  all  my  life  and  I  speak  to  you  with  an 
authority  of  long  friendship.  I  know  the  goodness 
of  your  heart,  but  you  must  not  allow  it  to  blind 
your  judgment  or  to  mislead  your  discretion.  You 
are  rich,  honored,  respected;  he  is  poor,  despised, 
reviled  and  it  is  believed  that  to  gain  a  political  ad- 
vantage he  has  not  hesitated  to  put  an  unspeakable 
outrage  upon  my  family." 

"You  don't  believe  it.  Major,"  cried  Mrs.  Fair- 


240  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

burn,  hastily.  "You  know  it  isn't  true.  Have  you 
forgotten  that  night  among  the  magnoHas?  Has 
the  memory  of  that  man's  generosity  faded  from 
your  mind?" 

The  tall  Southerner  winced.  "I  am  willing,"  he 
said,  "to  give  him  full  credit  for  everything  that — " 

*'Then,  why  should  not  I?  I  believe — I  have 
good  reason  to  believe — that  this  man  whom  you 
despise  is  not  a  bad  man  at  heart,  but  a  victim  ol 
circumstances  and  environment.  That  he  has  done 
wrong  I  grant,  but  I  know  he  is  capable  of  better 
things.  You  and  I,  Major,  should  make  it  easy, 
not  make  it  difficult,  for  him  to  reform.  He  has 
turned  over  to  a  committee  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  to — " 

"Yes,  I've  heard  of  that,"  broke  in  the  Major, 
impetuously,  "and  it's  well  enough  in  its  way.  But 
where  did  he  get  the  money?  Whose  money  is  it? 
Did  he  bring  it  here  with  him?  Did  he  save  it  out 
of  his  salary?  Didn't  the  money  belong  to  the 
state?  And  if  so,  has  he  done  so  virtuous  a  thing 
in—" 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  241 

"Yes,  he  has,  Major.  It  shows  that  he  is  trying 
to  make  amends.  It  shows  that  he  is  not  lost  to 
honesty  and  to  honor." 

"AHce,"  he  said,  ''I  have  always  held  you  up  as 
the  model  woman  of  the  South — the  model  woman 
of  the  World.  But  I  cannot  approve  of  your  action 
to-day.  A  thief  may  be  repentant,  and  may  do 
good,  but  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that 
he  has  been  a  thief." 

"There  once  was  a  thief  on  a  cross,"  remarked 
the  widow. 

**Yes,"  replied  the  Major,  "and  in  my  opinion  he 
has  done  more  real  harm  in  the  world  than  all  other 
thieves  combined.  He  is  the  emblem  of  eleventh 
hour  repentance." 

She  was  shocked  and  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  him 
so.  He  had  presumed  to  question  the  wisdom  and 
the  mercy  of  the  Son  of  Man,  and  she  thought  him 
little  better  than  a  blasphemer.  He  bowed  his  head 
under  her  rebuke  and  apologized,  acknowledging 
that  it  was  sinful  of  him,  and  hoped  that  she  would 
forget  it. 


242  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"1  may  have  been  indiscreet,"  she  said,  "but  I 
did  what  I  thought  was  right."  A  brightening 
change  spread  over  the  Major's  countenance.  *'Now 
you  are  the  girl  I  knew  so  well  years  ago,"  said  he. 
"And  really,  Alice,  I  can't  see  that  you  have  grovv'n 
any  older." 

They  heard  Roy  in  the  hall,  commanding  a  col- 
umn of  imaginary  soldiers.  "Doesn't  that  sound 
like  it?"  she  said.  "Doesn't  a  son  large  enough  to 
command  an  army  make  me  seem  older?" 

"Not  a  bit,"  he  maintained.  Taking  her  by  the 
hand,  he  said:  "Come,  sing  something  for  me. 
There  is  not  a  voice  in  the  world  that  pleases  me  as 
yours  does.    Sing  'Lorena'." 

She  sang  for  him  and  he  stood  beside  her,  with 
his  mind  in  the  past,  the  bright  and  careless  days  of 
his  youth.  He  heard  the  banjo's  ring  and  caught 
the  glow  of  the  Christmas  fire  in  the  cabin.  Again 
he  was  borne  in  triumph  upon  the  shoulders  of  a 
black  giant,  held  up  to  be  worshipped  as  the  com- 
ing master.  Ah,  how  different  from  the  past 
brought  back  by  the  Carpetbagger! 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  243 

The  Major  did  not  ask  her  to  sing  again  A^hen 
the  song  was  ended.  He  led  her  gently  to  a  chair, 
and  when  she  had  sat  down,  giving  him  a  smile 
which,  as  much  as  the  song,  spoke  of  old  days,  he 
took  a  seat  near  her  and  looked  into  her  eyes  till 
she  colored  under  his  gaze. 

"Alice,"  he  began,  "you  know  my  history  as  well 
if  not  better  than  I  could  tell  it  to  you.  You  know 
why  I  never  married."  She  looked  at  him  and 
slowly  nodded  as  the  past  came  back  to  her — the 
mourning  of  a  neighborhood  for  a  girl  thrown  from 
a  horse  and  killed.  One  week  from  the  time  when 
she  lay,  amid  the  blossoms  and  the  roses  of  April, 
young  Reynolds  was  to  have  led  her  to  his  father's 
house.  It  was  a  hard  blow  and  his  friends  feared 
that  his  reason  had  been  shaken.  With  a  physician 
he  had  roamed  in  foreign  lands,  and  for  years  after 
his  return,  lived  as  one  to  whom  life  was  a  heavy 
load.  She  remembered  it  all,  and  her  eyes  were 
soft  as  she  looked  upon  him.  It  was  the  first  time 
he  had  ever  alluded  to  his  bereavement. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  know." 


244  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

''Time  has  mellowed  that  sorrow  into  something 
sweet,"  he  remarked,  almost  in  a  whisper.  Then  he 
was  silent,  leaving  her  to  wonder  why  he  had 
brought  back  that  part  of  the  past. 

"Alice." 

"Yes,  Major." 

He  took  her  hand  as  he  had  taken  it  years  ago, 
on  their  way  to  school,  to  help  her  across  a  rivulet — 
he  took  her  hand  and  held  it,  still  looking  into  her 
eyes. 

"In  the  years  that  are  gone,  there  was  no  ro- 
mance between  us." 

"No,  Major.    We  were  always  good  friends." 

Slowly  she  began  to  withdraw  her  hand  from  his, 
but  he  held  it.  "Of  late,  after  all  these  years,  I 
have  thought  that  we  might  be  more  to  each  other. 
We  both  have  looked  upon  withered  roses ;  we  have 
breathed  their  perfume  in  the  chamber  of  death; 
but  roses  are  for  the  living  as  well  as  the  dead." 

"Major,  I  don't — don't  quite  understand,"  she 
said,  withdrawing  her  hand,  but  without  taking  her 
eyes  from  his.  "Roses  for  the  living?  Yes,  they 
are  planted  and  cared  for  by  the  living." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  24o 

"Ah,  and  they  should  be  enjoyed  by  the  living. 
At  my  house  there  is  a  wilderness  of  them,  without 
a  mistress." 

"And  my  garden  Is  full  of  them,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  but  they  have  no  master." 

"The  rose  needs  neither  a  master  nor  a  mistress," 
she  replied.  "It  needs  but  one  true  servant, — Sen- 
timent." 

"Alice,  I  could  esteem  no  one  so  much  as  I  do 
you.  I  believe  that  a  new  career  is  opening  for  me, 
and  alone,  it  would  be  but  half  a  career.  Will  you 
not  share  it  with  me?  Don't  answer  impulsively. 
Don't  ansv/er  now.  But  when  I  am  Governor,  I 
shall  ask  you  to  be  my  wife." 

He  arose  to  take  his  leave.  She  went  to  the  door 
with  him,  and  as  they  stood  there  in  a  silence,  full 
of  meaning  for  both,  they  heard  the  merry  laughter 
of  Nellie  and  Roy,  off  somewhere  in  the  perfume  of 
night. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


A   FADED    ROSE 


One  afternoon  a  few  days  before  the  election 
Governor  Crance  was  busily  engaged  in  clearing  up 
the  business  of  his  office  when  Mrs.   Fairburn's 

card  was  brought  in. 

"I  know  you  are  very  busy,  Governor,"  she  said, 
a  moment  later,  as  she  entered  the  room  with  a 
smile  and  a  word  of  friendly  greeting,  "but  I  hope 
you  will  pardon  this  intrusion.  I  want  to  see  you 
about  a  matter  in  which  I  know  we  both  are  deeply 
interested," 

"It  would  be  impossible,  Madam,  for  you  to  in- 
trude upon  me,"  replied  the  Governor,  warmly. 
"You  are  always  welcome  and  I  am  entirely  at  your 
service." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said.  "I  will  detain  you  only 
a  moment.  I  have  here  a  message  which  I  am 
going  to  deliver  to  Old  Mrs.  Reynolds  and  I  would 

246 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  247 

like  to  talk  with  you  about  the  case  as  it  now  stands 
against  her  husband,  before  I  see  her." 

"Let  me  send  up  the  message  for  you,"  suggested 
the  Governor. 

"Thank  you;  but  I  don't  feel  Hke  troubling  you 
to  that  extent." 

"Nonsense!"  cried  the  Carpetbagger.  "Here, 
Lummers.  Take  this  note  up  to  the  Reynolds  plan- 
tation. If  there  is  an  answer,  wait  for  it."  He  took 
a  letter  from  the  widow's  hand  and  hurried  the  sec- 
retary off,  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  to  talk  with 
his  fair  visitor  alone. 

"Governor,"  she  began,  as  soon  as  the  footsteps 
of  Lummers  died  away,  "I  fully  appreciate  the  no- 
bility of  character  you  have  displayed  toward  Major 
Reynolds  in  this  campaign  and  I  beHeve  I  under- 
stand all  that  this  course  has  cost  you.  I  want  to 
thank  you  for  what  you  have  done.  Few  men  in 
any  walk  of  life  ever  were  called  upon  to  make  so 
heavy  a  sacrifice  for  the  right  as  you  have  made. 
And  few  would  have  had  sufficient  moral  courage 
to  do  it.    The  election,  of  course,  rested  absolutely 


248  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

in  your  own  hands.  When  you  decided  that  the 
troops  should  not  be  used  to  intimidate  our  voters 
at  the  polls,  when  you  named  a  non-partisan  return- 
ing board  and  declared  that  every  vote  honestly  cast 
should  be  honestly  counted,  you  elected  your  polit- 
ical opponent  and  deliberately  defeated  yourself. 
No  general  upon  the  field  of  battle  ever  won  a 
greater  victory." 

The  Carpetbagger  made  no  reply.  He  gazed 
fixedly  out  of  the  window,  though  he  saw  nothing 
there. 

"Major  Reynolds,"  she  went  on,  "already  is 
elected.  There  can  be  no  question  on  that  point. 
The  balloting  will  be  merely  the  ratification  of  a 
result  already  known.  Governor,  I  am  anxious  that 
the  case  against  Old  Mr.  Reynolds  should  be  settled 
while  you  still  remain  in  office.  You  can  readily 
understand  why,  I  am  sure." 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Fairburn,"  quietly  replied  the  Gov- 
ernor, "I  think  I  do.  The  legal  vindication  of  Old 
Mr.  Reynolds  at  this  time  would  remove  a  stain, 
however  undeserved,  from  the  name  of  my  sue- 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  249 

cessor.  My  detectives  already  have  instructions  to 
do  everything  in  their  power  to  clear  this  matter  up 
at  once,  I  am  more  than  willing  to  do  this;  I  want 
to  do  it.  You  may  rest  assured  that  I  shall  do 
everything  I  can  for  Major  Reynolds,  for  I  know 
that  what  I  do  for  him  I  do  for  you." 

The  widow  started  slightly  and  a  faint  suggestion 
of  a  blush  glowed  upon  her  cheeks. 

"I — I — am  afraid  I  don't  quite  understand  you," 
she  said. 

The  Governor  faced  her  squarely.  "Oh,  yes  you 
do,"  he  responded  firmly.  "I  know  that  the  elec- 
tion of  Major  Reynolds  will  bring  him  a  far  greater 
honor  than  the  governorship  of  this  state.  I  under- 
stand that;  and  it's  all  right." 

It  was  now  Mrs.  Fairburn's  turn  to  remain  silent. 
She  nervously  fingered  some  letters  upon  the  desk 
before  her,  but  made  no  attempt  to  speak. 

"Mrs.  Fairburn,"  continued  the  Carpetbagger, 
after  an  awkward  pause,  "though  this  is  not  the  last 
time,  I  hope,  that  T  shall  see  you,  it  may  be  the  last 
opportunity  I  shall  have  to  say  something  to  you 


260  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

that  I  must  say  before  I  go  back  to  Chicago. 
Throughout  the  city,  even  now,  you  will  meet  little 
bands  of  marchers  celebrating  the  election  of  Major 
Reynolds  in  advance  of  the  returns.  You  will  hear 
them  shout  for  'home  rule'  and  'honesty  in  elec- 
tions,* and  you  will  hear  them  hoot  at  the  Carpet- 
bag regime.  There  speaks  Mississippi.  And  I  want 
you  to  know  that  if  the  state  is  benefited  by  my 
overthrow,  she  is  your  debtor  to  that  extent,  for 
you  did  it." 

"No,  no,"  hastily  interposed  the  widow.  "You 
must  not  say  that." 

"Why  not?  It's  the  truth;  and  I  want  you  to 
know  it.  During  all  the .  weary  months  I  have 
been  here  only  one  woman  in  the  whole  state  of 
Mississippi  has  ever  spoken  to  me  in  kindness — just 
one.  Only  one  has  ever  held  out  to  me  any  incen- 
tive to  do  better,  any  thought  of  responsibility  or 
any  hope  for  the  future.  This  is  your  work,  Madam. 
The  credit  for  it  is  yours,  not  mine." 

He  arose  and  strode  moodily  up  and  down  the 
room  several  times.     Suddenly  he  stopped  before 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  251 

her.  "Do  you  see  that  face  upon  the  wall?"  he 
demanded,  pointing  to  an  old  oil  portrait  of  An- 
drew Jackson.  "Do  you  know  the  platform  upon 
which  he  stood?  He  was  a  Southerner;  do  you 
know  what  he  taught  us  of  the  North?  To  the 
victors,'  he  said,  'belong  the  spoils'.  That  was  his 
political  creed;  when  I  came  here,  I  made  it  mine, 
and  for  me  'spoils'  meant  'plunder'.  Don't  tell  me 
that  this  was  wrong.  I  know  it  now.  But  I  didn't 
know  it  then  and  I  might  never  have  known  it  at 
all  but  for  you." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  evidently  was  moved.  "I  can't 
let  you  talk  like  that,"  she  said.  "You  are  the  one 
who  deserves  all  credit  for  what  has  been  done  and 
this  is  particularly  true  because  I  know  you  have 
been  actuated  by  no  thought  of  yourself,  no  hope 
of  reward." 

"No;  you're  wrong,"  interposed  the  Governor. 
"All  our  acts,  I  think,  are  based  on  selfishness.  I 
have  hoped  for  a  reward,  Mrs.  Fairburn.  I  want 
your  esteem." 

"Esteem  is  no  just  reward.  Governor,  for  what 
you  have  done.    You  deserve  far  more  than — " 


252  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"I  deserve  nothing — nothing  that  my  conscience 
doesn't  give  me.  Mississippi  to-day  has  every  dol- 
lar I  ever  took  from  her  wrongfully — and  more. 
And  I  don't  feel  like  a  repentant  thief,  either.  I 
believed  I  was  right.  I  thought  I  could  stand 
safely  on  the  platform  laid  down  by  that  idol  of  the 
South,  Old  Hickory  himself.  It  was  a  mistake. 
Jackson's  platform  never  was  a  license  to  plunder; 
I  know  it  now." 

"You  have  acted  nobly — grandly!"  cried  Mrs. 
Fairburn,  with  genuine  admiration  beaming  from 
her  eyes. 

"I  am  going  back  to  Chicago,  Mrs.  Fairburn," 
continued  the  Carpetbagger,  slowly  and  with  evi- 
dent emotion,  "to  begin  the  fight  all  over  again — 
the  battle  of  life.  I'm  not  afraid  of  the  future  at 
all.  That  will  take  care  of  itself.  I  have  abandoned 
political  life  without  a  regret;  I  have  beggared  my- 
self without  a  protest;  I  have  turned  over  this  com- 
monwealth to  Major  Reynolds  without  a  contest. 
Hate  me  if  you  want  to ;  despise  me  if  you  will ;  but 
I  can't  go  back  to  Chicago — and  I  won't — without 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  253 

telling  you  that,  if  I  felt  in  my  heart  that  I  were 
worthy  of  you,  I'd  fight  the  whole  state  of  Miss- 
issippi to  a  standstill  before  I  would  give  you  up." 

The  ensuing  silence  was  oppressive.  There  was 
a  suspicious  moisture  in  the  widow's  eyes  as  she 
arose  unsteadily  and  extended  her  hand.  "I'll  have 
to  be  going,"  she  said.  "I'm  afraid  your  clerk 
isn't  coming  back  at  all." 

She  went  out  softly  and  the  Governor,  standing 
as  one  in  a  dream,  slowly  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
wrinkled  envelope  and  took  from  it  a  faded  rose. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

IN  A  DEAD  man's  HAND 

The  election  was  near  at  hand.  Throughout  the 
country  districts  the  air  was  scented  with  barbecued 
pig  and  sheep  roasted  whole,  and  in  the  town  the 
night  was  sleepless  with  the  blare  and  the  snort  of 
the  brass  band.  Old  politicians,  keen  to  jump  back 
into  the  harness  and  jingle  the  trace-chains  of  self- 
importance,  predicted  that  there  was  to  be  a  sweep- 
ing victory  for  "Democracy"  unless  the  enemy  held 
in  reserve  a  trick  to  spring  at  the  last  moment.  But 
as  the  judges  of  election  had  to  all  appearances 
been  fairly  appointed,  it  was  not  likely  that  any 
decisive  trick  could  be  devised.  Besides,  it  did  not 
seem  to  be  the  Carpetbagger's  desire  to  win  by 
fraud.  He  had  held  the  state  in  the  hollow  of  his 
grasping  hand,  and  surely  he  could  have  kept  it 
there,  for  nothing  had  really  occurred  to  weaken 
his  power — nothing  except  the  concessions  which 
he  himself  had  granted. 

251 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  253 

In  the  glow  of  a  noon  when  the  air  was  close,  the 
Major  halted  in  at  Mrs.  Fairburn's  gate.  The  wid- 
ow was  sitting  in  a  hammock  swung  across  the 
veranda.  She  waved  her  fan  at  him  and  asked  him 
to  come  in.  He  had  not  the  time  for  so  luxurious 
a  pleasure,  he  said;  there  was  work  for  him  to  do, 
at  the  committee  rooms  in  the  hotel,  but  he  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  linger  for  a  moment. 
He  stood  in  the  cool  shade  of  a  vine,  and  seemed 
to  be  in  no  haste  to  get  at  his  important  work. 

"A  few  days  ago,"  said  he,  "it  was  my  earnest 
desire  to  be  elected;  now  it  is  more  than  a  desire — 
it  is  an  enthusiasm." 

"Then  a  distant  view  did  not  lend  a  false  enchant- 
ment to  the  office,"  she  replied,  laughing. 

"No,  the  closer  I  get,  the  more  attractive  it 
becomes." 

"Why,  Major?" 

Her  woman's  instinct  told  her  why,  but  she  could 

* 

not  have  helped  asking.  Naturally  he  expected  the 
question,  but  of  course  pretended  astonishment 
that  she  should  not  know  why. 


256  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"The  office  is  brighter,  now,  Alice,  because  I 
have  a  hope  that  you  will  share  it  with  me." 

"Why,  Major,"  she  said,  somewhat  flustered, 
"don't  talk  so  loud.    Some  one  might  hear  you." 

He  bowed  over  the  gate  and  said  that  he  would 
respect  her  caution.  "But,"  he  added,  "I  would 
like  to  shout  it  from  the  dome  of  the  state  house." 

"They  would  think  that  you  were  making  a  polit- 
ical speech,"  she  said. 

He  shook  his  head.  "No,  not  a  political  speech, 
for  there  can  be  nothing  politic  where  the  heart  is 
so  deeply  concerned.  A  man  may  set  his  mind 
upon  an  office;  his  heart  is  reserved  for  some- 
thing nobler.  But  as  I  said  before,  you  must  not 
decide  impulsively.  When  I  am  Governor  I  shall 
expect  your  answer." 

He  bowed  again  and  passed  on,  and  just  at  that 
moment,  a  negress,  employed  by  Mrs.  Fairburn  as 
a  laundress,  came  around  a  corner  of  the  house, 
wringing  her  hands  and  moaning.  Mrs.  Fairburn, 
full  of  sympathy,  besought  her  to  tell  the  cause  of 
her  distress,  but  the  poor  woman  was  so  overcome 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  251 

by  grief  that  it  was  some  moments  before  she  could 
speak.  Then  she  said  that  Zeb,  her  husband,  had 
been  found  murdered,  with  a  knife  wound  in  his 
breast.  On  the  night  before,  he  had  gone  to  meet 
a  man  who  owed  him  some  money — she  did  not 
know  the  name  of  the  man — and  had  been  stabbed 
to  death  in  Thompson's  kimber  yard. 

"I  doan  want  him  t'  be  buried  by  no  charity," 
said  the  woman.  "I  want  t'  borry  enough  money 
t'  pay  fur  de  funeral;  an'  I  doan  know  when  I  kin 
pay  you,  but  I  want  you  t'  take  dis  yere  watch  an' 
keep  it  till  I  fetches  de  money  back  t'  you." 

She  took  a  gold  watch  from  her  bosom  and  held 
it  out  to  Mrs.  Fairburn.  'T  don't  want  your  watch, 
Minerva.  I  will  let  you  have  the  money,  but  I 
couldn't  think  of — " 

"Yessum,  you  mus'.  You  got  t',  'case  I  doan 
know  whut  t'  do  wid  it  no  how,  fur  it's  too  fine 
fur  me." 

"Let  me  see  it,"  said  Mrs.  Fairburn,  taking  the 
watch.  She  opened  it  and  looked  up  with  a  start. 
"Where  did  you  get  this?    Tell  me  the  truth." 


258  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Yassum,  I'll  tell  you  de  truf  ez  de  Lawd  is  my 
jedge.    My  husband  he  gib  it  t'  me." 

"Do  you  know  where  he  got  it?" 

"No'm,  I  doan  know,  but  de  white  pusson  dat 
he  works  fur  mus'  er  gib  it  t'  him  in  pay  fur  his 
work." 

"Do  you  know  whom  he  worked  for?" 

"No'm.  He  neber  tole  me  much  er  bout  his  er 
fairs,     No'm,  I  doan  know." 

"I'll  let  you  have  the  money  and  keep  the  watch," 
said  the  widow  kindly.  Gently  drawing  the  sorrow- 
ing negress  down  upon  the  veranda  she  questioned 
her  long  about  all  phases  of  the  affair  and  particu- 
larly inquired  about  the  watch. 

Then  she  sent  the  woman  away  with  the  money 
under  her  apron,  chanting  a  negro's  improvised 
dirge  as  she  crossed  lots  in  the  direction  of  home. 
Reaching  there,  her  chant  was  merged  into  the 
mourning  song  sung  by  her  friends,  gathered  at  the 
house.  Jim  looked  in  at  the  door  and  stood  shak- 
ing his  head.  Early  that  morning  a  man  had  come 
running  to  tell  him  that  Zeb  was  dead  in  Thomp- 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  259 

son's  lumber  yard,  and  he  had  hastened  over  there 
to  see  for  himself.  The  news  had  not  yet  been 
spread,  the  body  having  just  been  found,  and  Jim 
saw  the  murder  in  all  its  ghastly  newness.  He  ap- 
proached cautiously,  looking  at  the  dead  man's  up- 
turned face.  Then  he  looked  at  the  right  hand, 
shut  tight,  and  stood  there,  pop-eyed  with  a  dis- 
covery. Bending  over  he  took  something  from  the 
dead  man's  hand.  As  he  looked  at  it  an  ashen 
pallor  overspread  his  swarthy  face,  his  knees  trem- 
bled and  his  teeth  chattered  like  castanets.  He 
carefully  put  it  away  in  his  pocket  and  hastened 
away.  He  returned  when  the  coroner  came,  but 
said  nothing  of  his  discovery.  He  walked  about  in 
deep  thought,  shaking  his  head.  He  was  related 
to  the  newly-made  widow,  and  went  to  her  house 
to  mourn  with  her;  but  he  did  not  even  tell  her  of 
the  thing  which  he  had  found  in  the  dead  man's 
hand. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  CHECK  THAT  CONSCIENCE  DRAWS 

Several  members  of  the  legislature,  who  had  been 
unusually  active  in  state  affairs  during  the  Carpet- 
bag regime,  were  missing.  Rumor  said  they  had 
gone  abroad  for  their  health,  albeit  they  had  grown 
fat  and  waxed  strong  through  feeding  at  the  pub- 
lic's expense.  The  rats  had  begun  to  desert  the 
sinking  ship;  those  v/ho  remained  did  so  in  order 
to  make  one  last  plundering  attack  upon  whatever 
could  be  found  in  the  old  worm-eaten  hulk. 

Willetts  sent  for  Lucy  Linford.  He  knew  he  had 
reached  the  end  of  his  rope  and  that  he  no  longer 
had  any  influence  whatsoever  with  the  chief  execu- 
tive. Daily  conferences  with  the  lethargic  Lum- 
mers  had  confirmed  this  beyond  question,  even  if 
additional  confirmation  were  needed.  He  knew 
that  henceforth  whatever  was  accomplished  by  him 
must  be  done  vicariously  and  he  turned  to  the 

260 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  261 

schoolbook  lobbyist  as  the  most  effective  tool  avail- 
able. 

"What  is  the  use  of  trying  to  push  this  matter 
right  in  the  midst  of  the  election  excitement?"  de- 
murred old  Steve's  agent.  "Why  not  v/ait  a  while? 
If  the  election  goes  against  him,  he  will  still  be  Gov- 
ernor for  a  while,  won't  he?" 

Willetts  snorted.  "You  may  understand  school- 
books,"  he  cried,  "but  you  don't  understand  Mis- 
sissippi. Now,  listen  and  follow  me  closely.  The 
moment  the  election  returns  are  in,  the  Carpetbag 
government  will  explode.  Those  law-makers  will 
take  to  the  woods  like  scared  rabbits.  They've  been 
sitting  there  now  eight  months  in  violation  of  all 
law,  crawling  over  each  other  in  their  efforts  to 
push  through  a  few  more  schemes  before  the  crash 
comes.  Our  people  won't  pay  us  a  cent  so  long 
as  there  is  any  loophole  in  this  bill  which  will  enable 
the  next  administration  to  undo  it.  They  demand 
that  it  shall  not  only  be  signed  by  the  Governor,  but 
also  that  the  fact  shall  be  recorded  in  both  houses 
before  they  will  cash  in  for  us.    Vve  must  get  the 


262  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

old  man's  name  and  we  must  get  it,  too,  before  this 
legislature  lets  go.    Understand?" 

"Yes." 

"Get  him — somehow.  I  don't  care  how.  You 
can  do  more  with  him  than  I  can.  You  are  a 
woman.    You  know  what  that  means." 

The  lobbyist  shook  her  head  dubiously.  "I'll  see 
what  I  can  do,"  she  remarked,  "but  I'm  not  at  all 
sanguine  about  the  matter.  He  won't  melt — I've 
tried  him  and  I  know.  We've  got  to  take  another 
tack  this  time.  Leave  me  alone  with  him  for  a 
few  minutes  and  I'll  try  to  land  him.  Have  Lum- 
mers  keep  everyone  else  away  so  that  I'll  have  a 
clear  field." 

This  was  a  matter  easy  of  accomplishment. 
Lummers  was  expecting  her  when  she  called. 
"Tell  the  Governor  a  lady  wishes  to  see  him,  Jim," 
he  said.  "No  name — just  a  lady.  I'm  going  to 
step  up  to  the  senate  chamber  for  a  moment.  Don't 
let  anyone  in  till  I  get  back." 

The  Governor  entered  briskly  from  his  private 
office  with  a  number  of  papers  in  his  hand.     He 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  263 

Stopped  abruptly  as  he  recognized  the  caller.  She 
was  all  smiles. 

"Are  you  surprised?"  she  inquired. 

"Um-no,"  was  the  hesitating  response.  'Tm  not 
surprised  at  anything  nowadays — haven't  time." 

Lucy  motioned  toward  a  chair.  "May  I  sit 
down?"  she  asked. 

"Certainly." 

She  indicated  another  chair.     "Won't  you?" 

"It  is  hardly  worth  while.     I  am  very — " 

"Oh,  come,  be  sociable  just  a  minute.  You're 
not  afraid  of  me,  are  you?" 

The  Carpetbagger  shook  his  head.  "I'm  afraid 
of  myself,"  he  said,  as  he  took  a  seat  across  the 
room  from  his  visitor. 

"Governor,  how  is  your  memory?" 

"Bad— very  bad." 

"You  haven't  forgot  what  you  told  me  the  other 
night,  have  you?" 

"No.    I  told  you  'good  bye'."  * 

The  lobbyist  bit  her  lip.  "You  have  a  positive 
genius,"  she  remarked,  "for  forgetting  things  you 


264  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

ought  to  remember  and  remembering  things  you 
ought  to  forget." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that.  There  are  a  great 
many  things  I'd  like  to  forget  and  can't." 

"I  hope  you  haven't  tried  to  forget  the  Midland 
bill" 

"No." 

"Thank  you." 

"I  forgot  that  without  trying." 

There  was  a  marked  change  in  Miss  Linford's 
demeanor  at  once.  She  altered  her  tactics  instantly. 
All  attempts  at  fascination  were  at  an  end;  verbal 
fencing  was  abandoned ;  she  did  not  smile  now. 

"Governor,"  she  said  forcefully,  "you  understand 
your  business  or  you  wouldn't  be  where  and  what 
you  are.  I  think  I  understand  mine.  I'm  a  busi- 
ness woman  now;  let's  talk  business." 

The  Carpetbagger  shifted  uneasily  in  his  chair 
but  made  no  reply. 

"In  politics,"  she  went  on,  "there  is  nothing  sad- 
der than  an  official  suicide — like  this." 
"Well,  I'm  not  on  ice  yet." 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  266 

"You've  killed  yourself.  Don't  you  think  you 
ought  to  save  enough  now  to  pay  your  funeral  ex- 
penses?" 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you." 

"You  have  pulled  down  the  temple.  What  have 
you  gained  ?  You  have  thrown  away  the  Governor- 
ship ;  you  have  thrown  over  your  party  and  defeated 
your  friends.  Now  what?  Do  you  expect  to  live 
here  among  these  people  whom  you  have  robbed 
for  years?  You  can't  do  it.  Do  you  expect  to  go 
back  to  Chicago?  How  will  you  do  that — walk 
back — without  a  cent?" 

"If  a  man  is  'broke'  it  doesn't  make  much  differ- 
ence where  he  is,  does  it?" 

"The  election  is  a  mere  waste  of  time.  What's 
the  use?  The  moment  the  returns  are  in,  however, 
the  legislature  will  adjourn.  Then  it  will  be  too 
late.  Your  name — right  now — is  worth  $50,000. 
Sell  it." 

She  was  leaning  toward  him  eagerly,  looking 
straight  into  his  eyes,  and  every  word  was  uttered 
with  the  force  of  a  hammer  blow.     The  Carpet- 


266  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

bagger  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  looked  toward  the 
ceiling  and  crossed  his  hands  behind  his  head.  "Do 
you  remember,"  he  slowly  asked,  after  a  brief  inter- 
val of  silence,  "in  that  old  school-reader  there  was 
a  quotation  from  an  older  book:  'A  good  name  is 
rather  to  be  chosen  than  great  riches?'  I'm  afraid 
you  haven't  got  that  in  your  new  books." 

"Bosh!" 

"Think  so?" 

"Yes,  I  do  think  so.  Better  men  than  you  have 
done  worse  things.  You  mustn't  let  a  sentimental 
whim  wreck  all  your  chances  for  the  future.  It 
would  be  a  crime.  We  haven't  a  moment  to  lose. 
You  have  only  one  chance  left — don't  let  it  slip. 
You  owe  this  to  yourself;  you  owe  it  to  your 
daughter.     Think  of  her  future  and — " 

The  Governor  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Hold  on 
now!"  he  cried.  "You've  gone  far  enough.  I  have 
heard  you ;  now  you  hear  me.  When  I  came  down 
here,  I  came  just  as  you  did — to  plunder.  And  I 
did  it.  There  is  no  future  in  that.  I've  tried  it.  I 
know.    Mississippi  today  has  every  dollar  that  I 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  267 

took  from  her.     I  have  given  her  back  her  money; 
she  has  given  me  back  my  conscience." 

A  sneer  hardened  the  woman's  face.     "Will  that 
pay  a  board  bill?"  she  asked  ironically.     "You  can't . 
cash  your  conscience  at  the  bank." 

"Any  check  that  conscience  draws — whether  it  is 
ever  paid  or  not — ^will  be  honored  everywhere." 

"Oh,  sentiment  sounds  as  pretty  as  anything  in 
your  old  school-reader,  but  you'll  find  you  can  get 
along  a  good  deal  better  on  three  meals  a  day.  Be 
sensible." 

Suddenly  the  Governor  turned  upon  her.  "Sen- 
sible?" he  cried.  "No  sensible  man  ever  is  dishonest. 
Let  me  tell  you  that  whenever  a  man  tries  to  strike 
out  the  enacting  clause  of  the  Ten  Commandments 
he  is  headed  for — " 

Nellie  and  Roy  came  bounding  into  the  room. 
Seeing  Miss  Linford  engaged  with  the  Governor 
they  stopped  short  and  prepared  to  beat  a  hasty  re- 
treat. 

"Come  in!"  cheerily  called  the  Carbetbagger. 
"Come  right  in.  How  are  you,  Captain?  It's  all 
right;  this  lady  has  finished  her  business." 


268  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

The  lobbyist  reluctantly  rose.  "I  didn't  say  I 
had  finished  my  business  with  you,"  she  snarled. 

"Didn't  you?"  gaily  responded  the  Governor  as 
he  took  Nellie's  curly  head  between  his  hands  and 
kissed  her  forehead.     "Well,  I  did." 


CHAPTER  XXX 

A  GOOD  TIMEPIECE 

It  was  election  day,  and  all  places  of  business 
were  closed;  election,  the  first  held  by  the  people 
since  the  old  days,  when  the  "eagle  orator"  and 
the  "silvery  tongued"  set  forth  the  wrongs  of  the 
nation  and  the  woes  of  the  state. 

At  night  a  rain  had  fallen,  there  was  no  dust,  and 
the  air  was  cool.  Crowds  were  gathered  about  the 
polling  places,  every  one  expecting  blood  to  be 
shed,  though  wise  men  stood  about  to  give  counsel 
to  hot  heads.  "We  have  lost  a  mighty  issue  by 
blood,  and  blood  will  not  win  us  an  election,"  said 
an  old  man,  a  lawyer  who  had  sat  upon  the  supreme 
bench  of  the  country.  Occasionally  rough  hands 
were  laid  upon  a  "repeater,"  to  choke  him,  to  beat 
him  and  to  drag  him  off.  The  brass  bands  were 
still  snorting,  and  ambitious  young  orators  stood  at 
public  places,  welcoming  the  day  of  deliverance, 

260 


270  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

The  Carpetbaggers  had  not  given  up  the  fight. 
They  knew  that  the  party  in  power  always  has  a 
chance,  for  possession  in  poHtics  means  quite  as 
much  as  it  does  in  law.  But  the  shrewder  ones 
knew  that  the  old  carpetbag  would  not  hold  straw 
after  this  day;  they  did  not  have  to  look  to  know  it; 
they  felt  it,  the  atmosphere  v/as  against  them.  The 
legislature  did  not  take  a  recess,  each  member  being 
interested  in  a  selfish  measure,  and,  fearing  that  his 
time  was  short,  continued  to  harangue  and  to  strug- 
gle. How  lawless  a  gathering  under  the  protection 
of  the  law!  Never  again  was  the  country  to  see  its 
semblance,  the  scrambling  end  of  a  riotous  misrule. 
It  was  a  revolution.  Negroes,  tremulous  with 
the  newness  of  suffrage,  stood  about  astonished, 
ballot  in  hand,  the  voice  of  the  people  in  the  palm 
of  yesterday's  slave.  The  negro  was  not  yet  the 
white  man's  enemy.  He  had  with  strange  fidelity 
taken  care  of  the  mistress  and  the  little  ones  while 
the  master  fought,  and  there  was  a  kindly  remem- 
brance of  it;  but  now  had  come  the  beginning  of 
the  long  and  bitter  struggle  between  the  Anglo- 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  271 

Saxon  and  the  African.  The  old  ruler  of  the  soil 
could  forgive  the  negro's  freedom,  but  he  could  not 
forgive  his  vote,  unless  he  should  vote  with  the 
native  whites,  and  that  his  gratitude  toward  his 
Northern  liberators  could  not  permit  him  to  do.  It 
might  have  been  a  false  gratitude,  or  rather  a  blind 
gratitude,  but  that  was  for  him  to  decide. 

The  hope  of  the  Carpetbaggers  lay  with  the 
negro,  but  the  freedmen  were  new  as  voters  and 
could  not  be  sufficiently  organized.  By  eleven 
o'clock,  the  Democrats  knew  that  Reynolds  was  far 
in  the  lead,  but  there  were  several  "heavy  negro  dis- 
tricts" to  hear  from  and  the  outcome  was  not  certain. 
The  legislators  took  fresh  hope.  They  had  received 
encouraging  news,  but  their  spirits  flagged  at  noon, 
dashed  by  a  dispatch  which  simply  read:  "The 
negroes  don't  know  what  they  are  doing.  It  looks 
bad."    Then  the  scramble  began  anew. 

Early  in  the  day,  the  gentler  element  of  society 
had  retired  from  sight,  behind  closed  doors,  expect- 
ing that  there  would  be  trouble,  but  later  the  em- 
barrassment was  thrown  off  and  the  women  came 
out  to  see  the  "struggle  for  new  freedom." 


272  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

Gov.  Melville  Crance  was  the  coolest  and  the 
calmest  man  in  the  little  capital  city  of  Mississippi. 
The  election  of  Major  Reynolds  was  over,  except 
the  shouting,  and  the  shouting  itself  had  begun. 
As  the  day  wore  on,  the  pent  up  feelings  of  the 
people  could  no  longer  be  restrained.  The  streets 
were  thronged  by  excited  citizens,  singing,  cheer- 
ing and  laughing  with  all  the  careless  exuberance 
and  enthusiasm  of  college  boys  out  for  a  lark. 
Little  bands  of  marchers,  keeping  step  to  fife  and 
drum,  went  about  the  city  shouting  the  glad  tidings 
of  the  political  regeneration  at  hand. 

The  saloons  were  closed,  but  the  whiskey  bottles 
were  not,  and  the  ardent  spirits  of  the  marchers 
were  accentuated  by  the  ardent  spirits  they  con- 
sumed en  route. 

Toward  night,  the  demonstrations  became  louder 
and  more  boisterous.  The  feeling  of  respect  for  the 
Carpetbagger,  due  to  his  unexpected  attitude  to- 
ward his  political  antagonist,  was  beclouded  by  the 
fumes  of  liquor.  He  either  was  crazy,  they  said, 
or  else  he  had  struck  something  better  up  North. 
At  any  rate  he  deserved  no  consideration  at  the 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  273 

hands  of  the  outraged  people  he  had  so  long  op- 
pressed. At  times  the  manifestations  assumed  a 
threatening  aspect.  Some  pf  the  paraders,  bolder 
than  the  rest,  halted  beneath  the  Governor's  window 
to  jeer  at  him  and  to  hurl  opprobrious  epithets  at 
the  man  they  hated. 

Lummers  was  frightened.  "Governor,"  he  said 
tremblingly,  ''I  don't  like  the  looks  of  things  out- 
side. The  town's  full  of  drunken  men  and  there's 
no  telling  what  those  fellows  will  do  when  they  are 
in  liquor.     Hadn't  we  better  close  up?" 

The  Governor  glanced  up  from  some  letters  he 
was  examining  and  stopped  whistling,  for  recently 
he  had  relearned  how  to  whistle  at  his  work.  "Non- 
sense!" he  said.  "There  is  no  danger.  If  you  are 
afraid  you  may  go  home  for  the  day.  Jim  and  I 
can  get  along  all  right  alone." 

"I'm  not  afraid,"  continued  Lummers,  though  his 
voice  told  a  different  story,  "but  you'd  better  take 
no  chances  to-day.  If  those  fellows  ever  start, 
they'll  go  gunning  for  bigger  game  than  I  am. 
Watch  out  for  them." 

"Why,   everything  is   going  their  way.     What 


274  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

more  could  they  ask?  They  wouldn't  make  any- 
thing by  riddling  a  political  corpse  and  they  cer- 
tainly are  sensible  enough  to  know  it." 

"When  a  man  has  mislaid  his  brains,  or  has 
soaked  'em  in  whiskey,"  said  the  secretary,  "he 
isn't  sensible  enough  to  know  anything.  I  tell  you 
the  whole  town  is  wild." 

"Then  you  and  I  will  set  the  town  a  good  ex- 
ample." 

"All  right/'  persisted  Lummers,  "but  I  warn  you, 
just  the  same.  Look  out  for  yourself  to-day."  He 
took  from  a  pigeon  hole  of  his  desk  a  heavy  Colt's 
revolver  and  thrust  it  into  the  Governor's  hands. 
"Keep  that  where  you  can  get  at  it." 

The  Carpetbagger  gazed  at  the  weapon  curiously 
and  shook  his  head.  "I've  got  through  with  that 
sort  of  work,"  he  said,  and,  opening  the  left  hand 
drawer  of  his  desk,  he  laid  the  revolver  in  it  and 
closed  it  again.  A  few  minutes  later,  he  retired 
into  his  private  room.  Jim  came  in,  whispered 
mysteriously  to  Lummers,  and  tiptoed  out  again  to 
usher  in  Willetts. 

"Is  the  old  man — ?"  whispered  the  lobbyist. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  275 

"Sh!"  interrupted  Lummers,  pointing  toward  the 
door  of  the  Governor's  den. 

"Have  you  got  the  Midland  bill  here?"  asked 
Willetts  in  a  low  tone. 

"No.  I  don't  know  where  it  is.  I've  looked 
through  everything  and  can't  find  it." 

"Do  you  think  the  old  man  has  it?" 

"No.     I  presume  it's  up  at  the  house." 

"Well,  we've  got  to  have  it  and  we've  got  to 
have  it  quick.  Understand?  Go  after  it.  Tell  'em 
the  Governor  sent  you." 

"If  it's  at  the  house  I  can't  get  it." 

"Of  course  you  can.  Go  through  everything 
until  you  find  it.  Say  the  Governor  wants  it.  And 
get  back  here  just  as  quick  as  you  can.     Hurry!" 

"I  don't  like  to—" 

"Nonsense.  You'll  never  be  missed.  It  won't 
take  ten  minutes.    Jim  can  look  after  the  office." 

Lummers  hurried  away  and  Willetts  went  out 
with  him,  saying  he  would  step  up  to  the  senate 
chamber  to  see  how  matters  were  going.  Shortly 
afterward  Mrs.  Fairburn's  card  was  brought  in. 


276  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Pardon  me  for  disturbing  you,  to-day,"  she  began, 
"but  I  want  to  see  you  on  a  matter  of  urgent  im- 
portance." 

"I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Fairburn,"  re- 
sponded the  Governor.     "Won't  you  be  seated?" 

"My  laundress,"  continued  the  widow  with  con- 
siderable excitement  in  her  speech,  "was  the  wife 
of  a  negro,  Zeb,  who  was  found  murdered  in 
Thompson's  lumber  yard.  A  short  time  after 
the  poor  thing  came  to  me,  half  distracted, 
and  asked  me  for  enough  money  to  defray 
the  funeral  expenses.  She  insisted  on  giving  me 
something  for  security  and  thrust  into  my  hands 
this  watch.     Look  at  it." 

The  Governor  took  the  watch  and  inspected  it 
casually.  "It  looks  like  a  valuable  timepiece,"  he 
remarked.  "Probably  it  was  stolen.  You  know 
the  colored  brother  doesn't  always  limit  himself  to 
henroosts  and  watermelon  patches." 

"Look  inside  of  it." 

The  Governor  opened  the  case.  "  'Presented  io 
Wiley  Jones  by  his  constituents,  Spencer  county, 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  277 

Mississippi,  April  10,  1866',"  he  slowly  repeated, 
reading  an  inscription. 

"Where  did  this  come  from?"  he  hastily  inquired. 
"Who  had  it?" 

"The  negro,  Zeb." 

The  Carpetbagger  sprang  to  his  feet.  "It's  as 
clear  as  day,"  he  cried.  "That  black  scoundrel  shot 
Jones  and  stole  his  watch." 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Fairburn  ear- 
nestly, "but  that  is  only  the  beginning  of  this  affair. 
Suppose  we  take  it  for  granted  that  Zeb  killed 
Wiley  Jones.     Who  killed  Zeb?" 

"That  dof^'-'t  make  any  difference.  What  we're 
after  is  tL^       low  who  murdered  Jones." 

"Ah,  but  it  does  make  a  difference.  Listen. 
That  negro  was  decoyed  from  his  home — " 

"Decoyed?" 

"Beyond  any  question.  He  went  to  meet  a  man 
who  owed  him  money  and  never  was  seen  again 
alive.  His  widow  believes  he  received  the  money 
and  on  his  way  home  was  waylaid  by  robbers  and 
killed." 

"Quite  likely." 


278  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"I  don't  think  so.  Governor,  the  kiUing  of  this 
negro,  in  itself  may  appear  an  insignificant  thing,  in 
these  days  when  human  Hfe  is  held  so  cheap,  but 
it  holds  the  key  of  old  Mr.  Reynolds'  innocence. 
I  feel  sure  of  it.  Zeb  was  not  murdered  for  his 
money — negroes  never  have  money — he  was  killed 
because  he  knew  too  much." 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  quite  follow  you,"  remarked 
the  Governor,  reflectively. 

"Why  was  Mr.  Jones  murdered?"  Mrs.  Fairburn 
continued.  "What  was  the  motive?  Not  money — 
he  had  not  enough  money  to  tempt  anyone.  Not 
robbery — no  one  would  do  so  desperate  a  deed  for 
this  watch.  If  Zeb  killed  him  he  was  hired  to  do 
it  by  some  one  who  wanted  Jones  out  of  the  way. 
And  the  man  who  paid  that  negro  to  commit  the 
first  crime  has  silenced  him  forever  by  a  knife 
thrust." 

The  Carpetbagger  carefully  looked  out  of  the 
window.  "It  may  be  worth  looking  into,"  he  said 
at  length.  "I'll  send  for  Chief  of  Police  McCul- 
lough  and  talk  it  over  with  him."    Turning  to  his 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  279 

desk  he  wrote  a  brief  note,  folded  it  and  rang  for 
Jim. 

"Take  this  to  police  headquarters,"  he  said,  "and 
get  back  just  as  soon  as  you  can.  By  the  way, 
v/here's  Lummers?" 

"Mistah  Lummers  done  stepped  out  foh  a  few 
minutes,  sah." 

"All  right.     Hurry  back." 

The  widow  arose  to  go.  "Governor,"  she  said, 
"find  the  man  who  was  last  seen  with  that  negro; 
find  the  man  who  owed  him  money,  or  promised 
him  money,  or  paid  him  money ;  find  the  man  who 
sent  for  him  last  night;  find  the  man  whom  he  met 
— and  you  will  be  face  to  face  with  the  real  mr.rderer 
of  Wiley  Jones  and  slayer  of  Zeb;  thus  will  the 
innocence  of  old  Mr.  Reynolds  be  made  clear." 

"A  woman's  heart  is  the  best  detective.  Perhaps 
you  are  right;  we'll  see." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

MR.  WILLETTS  MAKES  A  POINT 

Shortly  after  Mrs.  Fairburn  left  the  state  house 
Nellie  and  Roy  called  at  the  Governor's  office.  The 
Carpetbagger  himself  had  withdrawn  into  the  inner 
room  and  neither  Jim  nor  Lummers  was  on  duty. 
They  looked  about  the  room,  surprised  to  find  it 
unoccupied,  and  sat  down  at  the  Governor's  desk. 

"Isn't  it  just  awful,"  remarked  the  young 
"soldier"  disconsolately,  "that  we  can't  do  anything 
but  sit  down  and  grow?" 

"Awful,"  echoed  Nellie  with  a  sigh.  "And  if  I 
do  go  back  to  Chicago  you'll  forget  me  in  six 
months,  I  s'pose." 

"I  won't  forget  you  in  six  thousand  years,"  cried 
Roy,  vehemently.     "You  just  wait  and  see!" 

"I  don't  want  to  wait.  That's  just  the  trouble. 
Of  course  I  promised  father  I  wouldn't  run  away; 
but  if  any  one  were  to  come  along  and  carry  me 
off  I  couldn't  help  that,  could  I?" 

280 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  281 

Roy  shook  his  head.    "Couldn't  do  it,"  he  said, 
"I  have  given  him  my  word  of  honor." 
*'Oh,  what  did  you  do  that  for!" 
"What  could  a  soldier  do  when  he  was  treed?" 
"Treed?     When  were  you  treed?     Who  treed 
you?" 

"Never  mind." 

"Well,  Captain  Roy  Fairburn,  I  don't  think  you 
have  managed  this  affair  well,  at  all.     You  said  you 
would  meet  me  at  the  magnolias  the  other  night, 
but  you  didn't.     If  you  had  come — " 
"I  did." 

"You  didn't  do  any  such  thing." 
"I  did." 

"Captain  Roy  Fairburn!    What  a  story!" 
"I  tell  you  I  did." 
"Well,  where  were  you,  then?" 
"Never  mind." 
"I  didn't  see  you." 
"The  Governor  did." 

"Well,    do    something!      Think    of    something! 
Suppose  this  horrid  election  should  go  wrong!" 


282  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"They'd  take  you  back  to  Chicago — if  they  could; 
but  could  they?" 

Nellie's  pretty  pink  lips  were  dangerously  close 
to  his  own.  "Do  you  think  they  could?"  she  asked, 
and  the  Governor  in  the  next  room  heard  a  sound 
which  startled  him  from  a  reverie  and  brought  back 
the  days  when  he  used  to  hear  whippoorwills  in 
Illinois. 

"Hello!"  he  cried,  giving  a  premonitory  cough 
as  he  entered  the  room.  "What  are  you  doing 
down  here?" 

"We  won't  have  to  go  right  back  to  Chicago, 
will  we?"  inquired  Nellie,  blushing  almost  as  red 
as  the  rose  in  her  hair. 

"Well — you  needn't  pack  your  trunk  to-night." 

"I  don't  see  why  anyone  should  want  to  vote 
against  you,  anyway.     Why  do  they?" 

"Political  reasons,  I  guess." 

"I  don't  believe  there  ought  to  be  any  such  rea- 
sons." 

"Well,"  laughed  the  Governor,  "I  don't  know 
that  I  do,  either;  but  other  folks  seem  to  think 
differently." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  283 

"I  don't  want  Nellie  to  go  back  to  Chicago," 
chimed  in  Roy. 

"Why  not?" 

"Oh,  because." 

"Because  what?" 

"And  I  don't  want  to  go  back,  either,"  inter- 
rupted Nellie. 

•'Why?" 

"I'd  rather  stay.  Up  there  there's  nothing  but 
school  all  the  time  and  you  never  see  a — " 

"Whippoorwill?  That's  so — it  has  been  a  good 
many  years  since  I  heard  one  up  there." 

"I  don't  want  Nellie  to  go  back,"  spoke  up  the 
young  lover  manfully.  "You  know  what  I  mean. 
I  want  her  to  stay  right  here — always." 

A  kindly  light  shone  in  the  Governor's  eyes. 
"My  boy,"  he  remarked,  "you  are  merely  wasting 
your  time  with  me.  You  know  what  I  told  you 
the  other  night.  Go  home  and  talk  to  your 
mother." 

Roy  seized  his  cap.  "I'll  do  it!"  he  cried.  "You 
stay  right  here,"  he  continued,  addressing  Nellie, 
"I'll  be  back  in  a  jiffy." 


284  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Father,"  began  Nellie  when  they  were  alone, 
"you  aren't  sorry  to-day,  are  you?" 

"Sorry?     Nonsense!     Why  should  I  be  sorry?" 

"You  aren't  sorry  because  we  are  going  to  be 
poor  again?" 

"Poor!  My  child,  I  am  the  richest  man  in  the 
world  to-day."  Tenderly  he  stooped  and  kissed 
her.  "See  what  I've  got  left."  Then  in  a  lighter 
tone  he  added:  "How  would  you  like  to  be  my 
little  secretary  to-day  and  help  me  with  my  letters, 
eh?"  Nellie  clapped  her  hands  for  joy,  and  giving 
the  old  man  another  kiss  and  a  hug,  went  with  him 
injo  the  private  ofifice. 

Willetts  came  in  hurriedly,  after  making  a  dis- 
creet reconnoisance  at  the  doorway.  "Lummers 
isn't  back  yet,"  he  muttered.  "The  woman  couldn't 
do  the  trick.  I  didn't  much  believe  she  could.  It 
isn't  her  fault;  either  he's  a  fool  or  he's  crazy."  He 
was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  in  nervous  ex- 
citement when  Lummers  entered. 

"Did  you  get  it?"  he  whispered.  Lummers 
nodded. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  285 

"Good!     Let  me  have  it.     Where's  the  nigger?" 

"I  don't  know.     He  was  here  when  I  left." 

"Well,  you  take  care  of  him  if  he  turns  up.  Stand 
at  the  door  out  there  and  while  I'm  with  the  Gov- 
ernor don't  let  anybody  come  in.    Understand?" 

Lummers  walked  out  into  the  reception  room, 
and  Willetts  started  toward  the  door  of  the  Gov- 
ernor's private  office.  Before  he  had  taken  a  half 
dozen  steps  the  door  opened  and  Gov.  Crance  came 
into  the  room  carrying  some  papers  in  his  hand. 
He  stopped  short  on  seeing  the  lobbyist. 

"Governor,"  remarked  Willetts  blandly,  "I'm 
sorry  to  bother  you  to-day,  but  here's  a  petition  I'd 
like  you  to  look  at,  if  you  will." 

Making  no  reply,  the  Carpetbagger  seated  him- 
self at  his  desk.  A  moment  later,  he  glanced  up 
and,  displaying  a  little  annoyance,  said  perempto- 
rily:   "Well,  what  is  it?" 

Willetts  gave  a  swift  glance  about  the  room  and 
laid  the  Midland  Railway  bill  before  the  Governor. 
The  latter  started  as  he  recognized  the  document 


286  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

before  him  and  glanced  up  in  surprise.  He  was 
looking  down  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver. 

"Sign  that,"  commanded  Willetts. 

The  Carpetbagger's  thin  lips  tightened  about  the 
cigar  he  was  smoking.  That  was  all.  "Sit  down," 
he  said,  coolly. 

"Your  name.     Quick!" 

"I  wouldn't  shoot  if  I  were  you." 

"Sign  it." 

"At  any  rate  you'd  better  not  do  any  shooting  till 
after  I  sign  my  name.  If  you  did,  you  know,  the 
bill  wouldn't  do  you  any  good." 

"You  haven't  a  minute  to  live  unless  you  do  it." 

"Now,  don't  lose  your  nerve,  Willetts,  and  get 
careless.  I  can't  do  any  writing  with  a  bullet  hole 
through  me.     I'm  not  a  fool;  sit  down." 

Slowly  the  Governor  spread  out  the  paper  before 
him  and  picked  up  a  pen.  Then  he  rested  his  left 
hand  carelessly  over  the  left  drawer  -of  his  desk — 
beneath  it  was  the  revolver  Lummers  had  urged 
him  to  keep  within  reach.  It  was  time  for  Jim  to 
return,  he  thought,  and  where  was  Lummers?    A 


THE   CARPETBAGGEP  287 

band  of  marchers  with  fife  and  drum  passed  by, 
making  a  great  din. 

"I  v/ouldn't  object  if  you'd  waste  a  little  ammuni- 
tion on  those  fellows,"  drily  said  the  Carpetbagger. 
"They've  kept  me  nearly  crazy  all  day." 

As  he  spoke  he  pressed  the  pen  into  the  paper 
with  so  much  force  that  the  point  snapped. 

"I'm  sorry,  but  this  pen  is  broken.  I'll  have  to 
ask  you  to  hand  me  one  from  Lummers'  desk  be- 
hind you." 

Willetts  uttered  an  oath.  "You  did  that  pur- 
posely," he  cried.  "Governor,  I  don't  want  to  hurt 
you,  but  you  know  me.     This  means  business." 

The  old  man  smiled  and  leaned  back  in  his  chair. 
"I  can't  very  well  sign  my  name  without  a  pen,  can 
I?"  he  inquired.  "Perhaps  there's  one  in  the 
drawer  here,"  he  added,  motioning  toward  the  right 
hand  drawer,  which  did  not  contain  the  revolver. 

"Stop!"  cried  Willetts,  leveling  his  weapon. 
"Don't  try  that,  Governor." 

"Well,  look  for  yourself." 

Willetts  did  so.     Keeping  the  Governor  "cov- 


288  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

ered"  he  jerked  open  the  right  hand  drawer  and 
felt  inside  it.     "There's  nothing  here,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  Maybe  there's  one  in  the 
pther  drawer." 

Willetts  walked  around  the  desk,  reaching  out 
his  hand  to  open  the  left  drawer  and  as  he  did  so 
the  Governor  suddenly  stirred.  "There's  a  pen 
right  on  top  of  Lummers'  desk  over  there,"  he  said. 
"Shall  I  get  it?" 

"Sit  down,"  sternly  commanded  the  gambler,  as 
he  backed  over  to  the  secretary's  desk.  He  turned 
his  head  for  a  moment  to  pick  up  the  pen.  It  was 
only  an  instant,  but  it  was  long  enough  for  the 
Governor  to  pull  open  the  left  drawer.  Within  it 
lay  a  revolver  in  plain  view.  Above  it  rested  the 
Carpetbagger's  left  hand. 

Willetts  threw  down  the  pen  and  the  Governor 
picked  it  up.  "If  I  sign  this,"  he  drawled,  evidently 
fighting  for  delay,  "how  do  I  know  that  I'll  get 
a  cent  out  of  it?  You  said  you'd  give  me  fifty  thou- 
sand.    Does  that  agreement  hold?" 

"We'll  treat  you  right,"  growled  Willetts. 

*'Well,  this  doesn't  look  much  like  it." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  289 

Nellie  entered  from  the  private  office,  opening  a 
door  squarely  behind  Willetts.  Seeing  a  strange 
man  pointing  a  revolver  at  her  father,  she  uttered 
a  loud  cry  of  alarm,  Willetts  turned  upon  her  with 
the  rapidity  of  a  flash  of  lightning.  Then  he 
wheeled  about  to  keep  the  Governor  "covered." 
The  old  man  was  upon  his  feet;  his  long  left  arm 
was  extended  and  the  murderous  muzzle  of  a  big 
revolver  was  thrust  into  Willetts'  face. 

"Drop  it!"  came  in  stern  tones  from  the  Gov- 
ernor. The  gambler's  grasp  relaxed  and  his 
weapon  fell  to  the  floor.  The  Carpetbagger  picked 
it  up. 

"A  moment  ago,"  he  said  slowly,  "I  didn't  have 
a  pistol  handy.  Now  I  have  one  more  than  I  can 
use.     There's  yours." 

He  threw  Willetts'  weapon  before  him  on  the 
desk.  The  gambler  stretched  forth  his  hand 
eagerly,  but  suddenly  drew  it  back  again,  as  if  he 
were  afraid  he  might  be  stung.  He  had  seen  some- 
thing in  the  clear  blue  eyes  of  the  tall  man  before 
him  that  he  didn't  like. 


290  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Governor,"  he  stammered,  "I — I — don't  want  to 
fight  you." 

"Don't  you?"  sarcastically  asked  the  Carpetbag- 
ger. "I  must  have  misunderstood  you.  I  thought 
you  did." 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

WHAT  JIM  FOUND 

Toward  evening  Major  Reynolds  strolled  over 
to  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Fairburn.  He  found  her 
sitting  upon  the  veranda  and,  as  the  red  glow  of 
sunset  lighted  up  her  face,  he  thought  he  never 
had  appreciated  her  rare  beauty  before.  Certainly 
she  never  had  seemed  so  beautiful  to  him. 

"Alice,"  he  said,  as  she  arose  to  greet  him,  "I 
am  Governor  of  Mississippi.  The  returns  are  not 
in  yet,  but  my  advices  leave  no  room  for  doubt  as 
to  the  result." 

"I  congratulate  you,  Major,  with  all  my  heart, 
and  I  also  congratulate  the  state." 

"And  now  I  have  come  to  you  for  my  reward." 
"The  state  has  already  rewarded  you,  Major." 
"I  care  not  for  that,  Alice.     You  know  the  only 
reward  I  have  longed  for,  hoped  for,  prayed  for. 
May  I  not  claim  it  now?" 

2Pt 


292  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Let  me  ask  you  a  question:  The  election  is 
over;  has  Gov.  Crance  acted  in  good  faith  toward 
you?" 

"Yes;  I  think  he  has." 

"Has  he  fulfilled  every  obligation  to  you  and  to 
himself." 

"I  believe  so." 

"Has  he  kept  his  promises?  Has  he  acted  honor- 
ably? Are  you  satisfied  that  he  has  made  full  restor- 
ation to  the  state  so  far  as  he  could  do  it?" 

"Yes." 

"And  what  is  his  reward?" 

"A  clear  conscience  and  the  respect  of  his  fellow 
men." 

"Does  he  command  your  respect  for  what  he  has 
done?" 

"Certainly." 

"Then,  may  he  not  claim  mine?" 

The  Major  hesitated.  "I  will  admit  I  was  wrong 
the  other  night,"  he  said,  "in  calling  you  to  account 
for  your  friendliness  toward  him;  but  it  was  my 
great  love  for  you  which  prompted  me  to  do  it. 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  293 

But  I  told  you  then  that  as  soon  as  I  was  elected 
Governor  I  should  call  for  your  answer.  Alice — " 
"Come  into  the  house,"  she  said.  A  half  hour 
later  they  came  out  together  and  walked  down  to 
the  State  House. 

During  the  exciting  scene  which  followed  the 
unexpected  entrance  of  Nellie  Crance  into  the  Gov- 
ernor's office  that  young  woman  was  not  idle.  She 
did  not  wait  to  see  the  old  Carpetbagger  turn  the 
tables  on  his  antagonist,  but  ran  screaming  into 
the  reception  room,  where  she  found  Lummers 
standing  on  guard  at  the  door.  Again  and  again 
she  called  upon  the  recreant  secretary  for  help,  but 
he  paid  no  attention  to  her  entreaties.  Suddenly  a 
black  giant  loomed  up  in  the  entrance.  "Oh,  Jim! 
Jim!"  she  cried.  "Come  quick!  They're  killing 
Father!"  Lummers  barred  the  negro's  way.  Jim's 
long  right  arm  shot  out  like  a  catapult  and  his  fist 
landed  squarely  between  Lummers'  eyes.  The 
secretary  reeled  backward  the  entire  length  of  the 
room  and  fell  limp  and  apparently  lifeless  in  a  heap 


294  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

Upon  the  floor.  Another  second  and  Jim  stood  at 
the  Governor's  side. 

"Foh  de  Lawd's  sake!"  he  gasped.  "What's  de 
matter?" 

"Jim,"  calmly  replied  the  Carpetbagger,  "Mr. 
Willetts,  having  no  further  use  for  his  pistol,  has 
kindly  made  you  a  present  of  it.  Take  it.  It's 
yours." 

The  darkey  looked  at  Willetts.  "Take  it,"  com- 
manded the  Governor.  "You  may  have  it."  Jim 
picked  up  the  weapon  gingerly,  as  if  he  were  afraid 
it  might  explode. 

"Somebody  should  get  a  doctor  for  Mr.  Lum- 
mers,"  cried  Nellie. 

"Lummers?"  said  the  Carpetbagger.  "What's 
the  matter  with  Lummers?    Where  is  he?" 

"When  Miss  Nellie  called  me  just  now,"  ex- 
plained Jim,  "Mistah  Lummers  he  sorter  got  in  mah 
way.  An'  I  tried  to  get  by  'im  an'  I  couldn't.  An' 
I  put  out  mah  hand  kind  o'  sudden  like.  An'  I  felt 
suthin'.  An'  I  looked  down  an'  dar  was  Mistah 
Lummers  gwine  t'  sleep.     Reckon  I'd  better  took 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  295 

after  him  a  little  foh  dat  ain't  no  fitten  place  for  a 
man  t'  dose  ofif." 

"If  he's  hurt  bring  a  doctor,"  said  the  Governor, 
just  as  a  police  officer  in  uniform  appeared  in  the 
doorway  and  saluted.  "Ah,  McCulIough,  come  in. 
This  fellow  is  a  trifle  too  careless  with  firearms.  I 
had  to  take  his  pistol  away  from  him  a  few  minutes 
ago.     Take  him  away.     Lock  him  up." 

"Governor,  don't  do  this,"  pleaded  Willetts,  "I've 
always  been  your  friend — always." 

"That  may  be,"  responded  the  Governor,  "but  I 
don't  like  your  familiarity  sometimes." 

Major  Reynolds  came  in  with  Mrs.  Fairburn  on 
his  arm.  At  the  doorway  they  halted,  surprised  by 
the  unexpected  sight  of  a  police  officer.  "Pardon 
our  intrusion,  Governor,"  said  the  Major.  "What's 
the  matter?" 

The  Governor  threw  down  his  weapon.  "Noth- 
ing at  all,  thank  you,"  he  said.  "Mr.  Willetts  and 
I  merely  had  a  slight  difiference  of  opinion.  He 
thought  I  would  make  a  good  target." 

At  the  mention  of  the  gambler's  name  Mrs.  Fair- 


296  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

burn  started.  As  the  officer  turned  to  lead  Willetts 
away,  she  stepped  forward.  "May  I  speak  to  Mr. 
Willetts  a  moment?"  she  asked. 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  Governor. 

"Mr.  Willetts,"  she  began  with  a  voice  soft  and 
sweet  as  a  siren's  song,  "I  don't  know  what  has 
just  occurred  here  and  I  hope  you  will  pardon  me 
for  interrupting  you  at  such  a  time.  But  you  are 
now  in  a  position  to  help  me  and  perhaps  I  also 
can  assist  you.  My  laundress  is  the  wife  of  the 
negro  Zeb,  who  was  found  dead  in  Thompson's 
lumber  yard.  I  am  told  that  he  formerly  was  in 
your  employ." 

"I  had  a  nigger  a  while  ago  to  look  after  my 
horses.  I  suppose  it's  the  same  fellow — I  don't 
know,"  growled  the  gambler. 

"Well,  now,  Mr.  Willetts,"  the  widow  proceeded 
insinuatingly,  "here  is  the  point.  Zeb  left  home 
to  get  some  money  you  owed  him.  He  was  way- 
laid by  robbers  on  his  way  home.  They  took  what- 
ever he  had,  but  there  is  no  way  of  telling  how 
much  they  found.     It  has  occurred  to  me  that  per- 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  297 

haps  you  didn't  pay  Zeb  at  all.  If  you  didn't  I 
hope  you  will  turn  over  the  money  to  his  widow 
right  away.     Poor  thing,  she  needs  it." 

"Well,  I  paid  the  nigger — every  cent  I  owed  him. 
That  settles  that." 

A  queer  light  glowed  in  Mrs.  Fairburn's  eyes,  but 
the  gambler  did  not  notice  it. 

"Then  you  gave  Zeb  the  money?"  she  softly  in- 
quired, stepping  closer. 

"Why,  yes." 

"When  did  you  see  him  last?" 

"Early  in  the  evening.  I  don't  know  the  exact 
hour." 

"You  sent  for  him?" 

"He'd  been  working  for  me.  I  owed  him  a  small 
balance  and  told  him  to  come  up  and  get  it." 

"He  kept  the  appointment  you  made?" 

"Yes." 

"You  met  him?" 

"Yes." 

Mrs.  Fairburn  was  standing  face  to  face  with 
Willetts.     Looking  him  straight  in  the  eyes  she 


298  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

said,  as  quietly  and  as  conclusively  as  one  might 
discuss  the  weather  or  the  price  of  butter:  "And 
you  murdered  him." 

Willetts  did  not  start.  He  had  been  a  gambler 
too  long  to  betray  whatever  might  be  passing  in  his 
mind.  He  laughed  uneasily.  "Did  I?"  he  in- 
quired. "Well,  I'd  entirely  forgotten  that.  Per- 
haps I  did." 

"You  decoyed  that  negro  from  his  home.  You 
waited  for  him  in  the  dark.  You  met  him  as  a 
friend  and  drove  your  knife  through  his  heart  be- 
cause you  were  afraid  of  what  he  knew!" 

A  sneer  was  the  only  response.  The  officer 
stepped  forward  and  laid  his  hand  on  Willetts' 
shoulder.  "Come,"  he  said,  laconically.  Big  Jim 
stood  in  the  doorway  and  did  not  step  aside  to  per- 
mit them  to  pass.  "  'Scuse  me,  sah,"  he  said,  "but 
I'd  like  to—" 

"Silence,  you  black  rascal!"  shouted  the  hot- 
headed Major.     "How  dare  you  interfere  in — " 

The  Governor  raised  his  hand.  "Pardon!"  he 
said.     "Let  him  speak.     Go  on,  Jim.      What  is  it?" 


THE  CARPETBAGGER  299 

"Thankee,  sah.  Dis  heah  fool  niggah  Zeb  was 
mah  wife's  cousin — an'  he  was  a  bad  man.  A  didn't 
say  nuffin  'bout  it  befo'  and  cause  fob  why:  I  didn't 
want  no  knife  holes  in  mah  shirt.  I  didn't  want 
nobody  come  slashing  up  my  gyarments.  An'  dat's 
jest  what  dat  fool  niggah  'd  do." 

"Well,  is  that  all?"  impatiently  inquired  the  Car- 
petbagger. 

"Naw,  sah.  Dat  ar  lady  what's  a  mohning  fob 
her  husband  has  been  comin'  ober  t'  mah  house 
most  ebbery  day  an'  she's  been  sayin'  things  t'  mah 
wife." 

"Yes." 

"  'Pears  like  Wiley  Jones  an'  Mistah  Willetts  was 
bofe  of  'em  in  dis  heah  railway  Ian'  deal.  An'  dey 
quarrel.  Den  dar's  Wiley  Jones — killed.  Den 
heah  comes  a  fool  niggah  toting  'round  Wiley 
Jones'  watch.  Who'd  git  Wiley  Jones'  watch, 
'ceptin'  de  man  whut  kill  'im?  An'  why  he  want  t' 
kill  Wiley  Jones,  anyway,  'ceptin'  he  git  paid  fur  it?" 

Willetts  looked  bored.  "All  this  may  be  very 
entertaining,"  he  said.  "No  doubt  you  find  it  so. 
But  if  there  is  no  objection,  I  would  prefer  to—" 


300  THE   CARPETBAGGER 

"Hold  on,  Willetts!"  sternly  exclaimed  the  Gov- 
ernor.    "I'll  tell  you  when  to  go." 

"Dat  mohnin',"  proceeded  Jim,  "a  nigg-ah  'oman 
comes  a'  runnin'  up  t'  me  an'  she  says  'Zeb's  a-lyin' 
ober  yander  in  de  lumberyard.'  I  run  ober  dar,  an' 
dar  is  Zeb  wid  a  big  slash  in  his  breast — dead.  An* 
dis  heah  is  a  funny  thing — " 

The  negro  stopped  and  began  fumbling  in  his 
pocket.  "Dar  was  Zeb  a-lyin'  on  de  groun'  wid  one 
han'  shet  up  tight — dis  way.  An'  hangin'  right 
outen  heah,  atween  his  fingers,  was  dis  little  piece 
o'  chain  what  he  cotch  off  de  man  what  was  a  killin' 
of  'im — cotch  off  while  he  was  a-grabbin'  foh  his 
life." 

Jim  extended  his  hand.  Resting  on  its  palm  was 
a  golden  watch  charm — a  large  horseshoe  set  with 
diamonds. 

"I  see  dis  heah  watch  chahm  befo,"  continued  the 
negro  solemnly.  "I  see  it  often — right  in  dis  heah 
room,  too — right  dar!"  As  he  spoke  he  pointed 
dramatically  toward  Willetts'  vest. 

Governor  Crance  took  the  glittering  horseshoe 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  301 

and  examined  it  critically.     "It's  a  lie!"  shouted 
Willetts.     "It  never  was  mine!" 

"Oh,  course  not,  of  course  not!"  replied  the  Gov- 
ernor. "I  have  no  doubt  you  can  easily  explain, 
to  a  jury  just  why  your  watch  chain  at  present  isn't 
complete.  If  you  have  any  trouble  in  doing  so, 
however,  we  stand  ready  I  think,  to  supply  the  miss- 
ing link."  Turning  to  the  officer  he  added:  "Take 
him  away.     No  bail.     Hold  him  for  murder." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


THE  WATERS  CLEARED 


As  Chief  McCullough  left  the  Governor's  office 
with  his  prisoner,  the  latter's  wrists  encircled  by 
steel  handcuffs,  Roy  met  them  in  the  lobby. 
Breathless  with  astonishment,  he  rushed  into  the 
executive  chamber  and  Nellie  immediately  under- 
took to  explain  to  him  everything-  that  had  occurred 
during  his  brief  absence — the  assault  upon  the  Gov- 
ernor, her  own  opportune  arrival,  the  coming  of 
Jim,  the  meeting  of  Lummers,  the  arrest  of  Willetts 
and  the  charge  against  him.  She  made  only  one 
mistake — she  attempted  to  tell  all  this  in  one  sen- 
tence without  stopping  for  breath  and,  as  a  result, 
Roy  merely  gathered  from  her  excited  chatter  that 
something  wonderful  had  happened.  With  true 
soldierly  instinct,  he  regretted  that  he  had  not  been 
on  hand  while  the  fighting  was  in  progress. 

Major    Reynolds    extended    his    hand    to    Jim. 

302 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  303 

"Give  me  your  black  hand,  sir,"  lie  said.  "For  my 
father  and  for  myself  I  thank  you.  I  shall  not  for- 
get what  you  have  done.  This  place  shall  be  yours, 
sir,  as  long  as  I  am  Governor,  if  you  want  it." 

Jim  grasped  the  Major's  hand  timidly, 

"Thankee,  sah,"  he  said.  "Thankee,  kindly." 
Then  he  glanced  toward  the  Carpetbagger.  "But 
dar's  nebber  gwine  to  be  moli  dan  one  gub'nor  fob 
me,  nohow,  of  he'll  hab  me  wid  'im." 

"Governor,"  said  the  Southerner,  "in  advance  of 
the  returns,  I  want  to  congratulate  you,  sir,  as  the 
only  man  who  ever  defeated  me  in  a  personal  cam- 
paign." 

With  a  little  hesitation  Melville  Crance  grasped 
the  hand  that  was  extended  toward  him.  There  was 
doubt  in  his  voice  as  he  wonderingly  said:  "Ah, 
Major,  you're  joking;  but  I'm  heartily  glad  that  the 
shoe  is  on  the  other  foot  to-day.  You  are  virtually 
governor  of  Mississippi  at  this  moment  and  elected 
by  the  largest  majority  ever  given  a  candidate.  I'm 
not  sorry.  I  congratulate  the  state,  and  I  wish 
you—" 

"I  repeat  it,  sir,  the  victory  to-day  is  yours." 


304  THE  CARPETBAGGER 

"If  you  believe  that,  Major,"  said  the  Carpet- 
bagger Hghtly,  "my  advices,  I  am  certain,  are  more 
accurate  than  yours.     You  have  carried — " 

"I  have  carried  Mississippi — that's  all.  You,  sir, 
have  done  more  than  that;  you  have  carried  your- 
self. A  political  victory  is  mine  but  in  it  I  find  the 
severest  defeat  of  my  lifetime." 

"Defeat?" 

"Unconditional  defeat." 

Governor  Crance  looked  at  his  gallant  adversary 
in  bewilderment.  The  Major  turned  toward  Mrs. 
Fairburn,  made  her  a  courtly  bow  and  walked  away 
without  a  word. 

The  room  had  suddenly  grown  still.  Nellie  and 
Roy  had  ceased  their  chattering.  The  silence  was 
oppressive.  Doubtingly,  timidly,  the  Carpetbagger 
glanced  at  the  woman  who  had  saved  him  from 
himself.  Slowly  she  raised  her  eyes  until  they  met 
his  gaze — they  were  swimming  with  tears,  but  there 
was  no  sadness  in  them. 

"Governor,"  she  said  as  she  extended  her  hand — 
her  voice  as  sweet  as  music  in  the  night — "the  water 
of  that  mountain  brook  has  become  clear." 


THE   CARPETBAGGER  306 

Outside  there  was  a  confused  babel  of  voices 
mingled  with  cheers  and  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet. 
Jim  stuck  his  woolly  head  in  at  the  door.  "De  leg- 
islatur  hab  adjourned!"  he  cried. 

But  the  Carpetbagger  neither  heard  nor  knew. 
The  woman  he  loved  was  in  his  arms.  "I  have  lost 
a  state,"  he  said,  "but  I  have  won  an  empire." 

THE  END. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

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